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of  Utopian  Literature 


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Etidorhpa 

or 

The  End  of  Earth 


^        The  End  of  Earth        ^ 


^^    The  Strange  History  of  a  Mysterious  ^^^ 

^           Being   and  the  Account  of  a  ^ 

^                    Remarkable  'Journey  ^ 

oO^ t^O^ 

uon fjrri 

ten                                                       rJy  t//5 

"^        JOHN   URI    LLOYD  ::^ 

rjryi    Author   o/*  "  Strlngtown   on   the    Pike"  ooo 

tjon                            With  many  Illustrations  by  tjcn 

^                    J.    AUGUSTUS    KNAPP  <^ 

'■-<TC  gyys 

^             ELEVENTH  EDITION  ^ 

j^oo                                 Revised  and  Enlarged  ooo 

"^                              "5^^W^'^  "^ 

c>OQ                                              ^\,  irS.  i/^  irf^  irt\  t/yi 

^^                                                                   >«^  >iAlC  VV"  "iftT  ^Oif  '^^ 

fMn  iucn 

'^y^  '^'^ 

"^                        NEW  YORK  ::^- 

tyyi  fjcn 

^    Dodd,  Mead    &   Company  "^ 

c^                                           lOOI  '^^ 

fLy^'.xriUri<ijontcr>-jcrit€n(jcr)ryyi-yy^-y/^-yyi'yy:>ay^fjnn'yri-y/^'y^ 

txn  un  <:jor.  t/y-4  ry/n  rjcr>  zcn  ocr-  of'-  -yr-  -yy  -yyi  -yy-  icn  tyr-  <uy-  z/y-  -yyi  -yy-  -yy^ 


Copyright,   1895,  by  John  Uri  Lloyd. 

Copyright,    1896,  by  John   Uri  Lloyd. 

Copyright,  190 1,  by  Dodd,  Mead  and  Company. 


UT2)?/M 


PREFACE. 


This  book,  which  has  been  aptly  called  "A 
Novel  of  Mystery,"  was  issued  privately  in  1895. 
The  discussions  which  followed  led  to  successive 
editions,  the  present  being  the  eleventh.  In  this 
edition  chapters  excluded  from  former  editions 
have  been  given  a  place,  thus  enlarging  and  mak- 
ing the  book  complete. 

It  will  be  observed  that  Etidorhpa  consists 
not  only  of  a  story  within  a  story,  but  that  the 
chapters  in  the  latter  part  of  the  book  are  closely 
connected  with  preceding  incidents,  thus  bring- 
ing to  the  reader's  attention  phases  of  thought 
which  might  otherwise  be  overlooked  or 
neglected. 

J.  U.  L. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XL 

XII. 
XIII. 
XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 


PAGE. 

"My  Purpose  is  to  Tell  the  Truth" i 

"Never  Less  Alone  than  When  Alone".  ...  4 

A  Friendly  Conference 15 

A  Second  Interview  with  the   ^Mysterious 

Visitor 24 

A  Search  for  Knowledge. — TheAlchemistic 

Letter 35 

The  Writing  of  my  Confession t,8 

Kidnapped 40 

A  Wild  Night — I  am  Prematurely  Aged .  .  49 

A  Lesson  in  Mind  Study 58 

I  Cannot  Establish  my  Identity 6^ 

My  Journey  toward  the  End  of  the  Earth 

Begins. — The  Adepts'  Brotherhood.  .  .  70 

My  Journey  Continues. — Instinct jy 

A  Cavern  Discovered. — Bissell's  Hill 82 

The    Punch-Bowls    and    Caverns    of    Ken- 
tucky.— "Into  the  Unknown  Country  '.  87 
Farewell  to  God's  Sunshine — The  Ecno  of 

the  Cry 97 

A  Zone  of  Light  Deep  within  the  Earth.  . .  102 

The  Fungus  Forest. — Enchantment 107 

The  Cry  from  a  Distance. — I  Rebel  Against 

Continuing  the  Journey ill 


vi  Contents 

CHAPTER  PAGE. 

XIX.  My    Unbidden    Guest,   I-Am-The-Man, 

Proves  His  Statement 114 

XX.  My  Weight  Disappearing 117 

XXI.  My  Unbidden  Guest  Departs 123 

XXII.  The  Mother  of  a  Volcano.— "You  Cannot 

Disprove,  and  You  Dare  not  Admit."   125 

XXIII.  Motion   from   Inherent  Energy. — "Lead 

Me    Deeper    into    this    Expanding 
Study" 130 

XXIV.  Sleep,     Dreams,    Nightmare. — "Strangle 

the  Life  from  my  Body" 137 

XXV.  A  Challenge.— My  Unbidden  Guest  Ac- 
cepts it. — Looking  Backward. — The 

Living  Brain 142 

XXV^I.  Primary  Colors  Are  Capable  of  Further 

Subdivision 152 

XXVII.  I  Cease  to  Breathe,  and  Yet  Live 157 

XXVIII.  "A  Certain  Point  within  a  Sphere." — Men 
are  as  Parasites  on  the  Roof  of  the 

Earth 162 

XXIX.  Drunkenness. — The  Drinks  of  Man 167 

XXX.  The  Drunkard's  Voice 171 

XXXI.  The  Drunkard's  Den 173 

XXXII.  Among  the  Drunkards 181 

XXXIII.  Further   Temptation — Etidorhpa  186 

XXXIV.  Misery 195 

XXXV.  Eternity  without  Time 206 

XXXVI.  The    Fathomless    Abyss. — The  Edge  of 

the  Earth  Shell 211 

XXXVII.  My    Heart-Throb    is    Stilled,  and    yet  I 

Live 213 

XXXVIII.  The  Inner  Circle,  or  the  End  of  Gravita- 
tion.— In  the  Bottomless  Gulf 220 

XXXIX.  Hearing  without  Ears. — "What  will  be 

the  End?"    225 


Contents  vii 

CHAPTER  PAGE. 

XL.   Oscillating  through  Space. — Earth's  Shell 

above  me 231 

XLI.  My  Weight  Annihilated.— "Tell  me,"  I 
Cried  in  Alarm,  "is  this  to  be  a  Liv- 
ing Tomb  ?" 239 

XLIL    Is    that    a    Mortal?— "The    End    of    the 

Earth"   244 

XLIIL   The  Last  Farewell 249 

XLIV.   A  Search  for  Knowledge 259 

XLV.    Vitalized  Darkness. — The  Narrows  in  Sci- 
ence      269 

XLVL   The  Food  of  Man ^yj 

XLVn.    The  Unbidden  Guest   Proves   His   State- 
ment     282 

XLVIIL    I    Question    Scientific    Men. — Aristotle's 

Ether 289 

XLIX.  The  Soliloquy  of  Professor  Daniel 
Vaughan. — "Gravitation  is  the  Begin- 
ning and  Gravitation  is  the  End :  All 
Earthly  Bodies  Yield  to  Gravitation".    294 

L.   A  Challenge 298 

LL    Beware  of  Biology,  the  Science  of  the  Life 

of  Man  305 

LIL    What  would  Happen  if  a  Crevice  Should 

Open  in  the  Ocean's  Bottom 312 

LHL    Matter  is  Retarded   Motion 319 

LIV.    "A  Study  of  Science  is  a  Study  of  God." — 

Communing  with  Angels 325 

LV.    A  Remarkable  Contest 327 

LVL    Why  and  How 355 

LVH.   I  Seek  a  Confidant 359 

LVHL    'Tis  not  the  Eye,  but  the  Brain  that  Sees 

an  Object 363 

LIX.    The  Vision  of  the  Future  of  Science 372 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

I-Am-The-Man Frontispiece 

Fac-simile  of  the  mysterious  manuscript  of  I-Am-The-Man- 

Who-Did-It    34 

Map  of  Kentucky  near  entrance  to  cavern 83 

"This  struggling  ray  of  sunlight  is  to  be  your  last  for  years"     98 

"I  was  in  a  forest  of  colossal  fungi" 108 

"Monstrous  cubical  crystals" 112 

"I  bounded  upward  fully  six  feet" 118 

"We  leaped  over  great  inequalities" 120 

"Far  as  the  eye  could  reach  the  glassy  barrier  spread" 122 

"We  came  to  a  metal  boat" 128 

"Facing  the  open  window,  he  turned  the  pupils  of  his  eyes 

upward"   146 

"A  brain,  a  living  brain,  my  own  brain" 149 

"We  finally  reached  a  precipitous  bluff" 152 

"The   wall    descended   perpendicularly   to    seemingly    infinite 

depths"   156 

"We  would  skip  several  rods,  alighting  gently" 158 

"An  uncontrollable,  inexpressible  desire  to  flee" 160 

"I  dropped  on  my  knees  before  him" 165 

"Handing  me  one  of  the  halves,  he  spoke  the  single  word,  ) 

'Drink'  "  V  174 

"And  each  finger  pointed  toward  the  open  way  in  front".  . .   ) 

Etidorhpa 190 

"In  fear  and  trembling  I  crept  on  my  knees  to  his  side" 212 

"He  sprang  from  the  edge  of  the  cliff  into  the  abyss  below, 

carrying  me  with  him  into  its  depths" 219 

Diagram   of  the  journey  from   the   Kentucky  cavern   to   the 

"End  of  Earth" 230 

The  earth  and  its  atmosphere 235 

"I  stood  alone  in  my  room,  holding  the  mysterious  manu- 
script"    254 

"Gravitation  is  the  beginning  and  gravitation  is  the  end ;  all 

earthly  bodies  kneel  to  gravitation" 294 

"We  passed  through  caverns  filled  with  creeping  reptiles". ..  .  346 
"Beautiful  flowers  and  structures,  gorgeous  insects" 350 


THE    STORY    OF 

ETIDORHPA 


CHAPTER   I. 

"my  purpose  is  to  tell  the  truth." 

My  name  was  Johannes  Llewellyn  Llongollyn  Drury. 
I  was  named  Llewellyn  at  my  mother's  desire,  out  of  re- 
spect to  her  father,  Dr.  Evan  Llewellyn,  the  scientist  and 
speculative  philosopher,  well  known  to  curious  students 
as  the  author  of  various  rare  works  on  occult  subjects. 
The  other  given  names  were  ancestral  also,  but  when  I 
reached  the  age  of  appreciation,  they  naturally  became 
distasteful ;  so  it  is  that  in  early  youth  I  dropped  the 
first  and  third  of  these  cumbersome  words,  and  retained 
only  the  second  Christian  name.  While  perhaps  the 
reader  of  these  lines  may  regard  this  cognomen  with  less 
favor  than  either  of  the  others,  still  I  liked  it.  as  it  was  the 
favorite  of  my  mother,  who  always  used  the  name  in  full ; 
the  world,  however,  contracted  Llewellyn  to  Lew.  nuich 
to  the  distress  of  my  dear  mother,  who  felt  aggrieved  at 
the  liberty.  After  her  death  I  decided  to  move  to  a 
Western  city,  and  also  determined,  out  of  respect  to  her 
memory,  to  select  from  and  rearrange  the  letters  of  mv 
several  names,  and  construct  therefrom  three  short,  terse 
words,  which  would  convey  to  myself  only  the  resem- 
blance of  my  former  name.  Hence  it  is  that  the  Cin- 
cinnati Directory  does  not  record  my  name,  which  I  have 
no  reason  to  bring  before  the  public.  Let  it  then  pass  as 
Llewellyn  Drury.  I  might  add  that  my  ancestors  were 
among  the  early  settlers  of  what  is  now  New  York  City, 


2  Etidorhpa 

and  were  direct  descendants  of  the  early  Welsh  kings ; 
but  these  matters  do  not  concern  the  reader,  and  it  is 
not  of  them  that  I  now  choose  to  write.  My  object  in 
putting  down  these  preliminary  paragraphs  is  simply  to 
assure  the  reader  of  such  facts,  and  such  only,  as  ma}'- 
give  him  confidence  in  my  personal  sincerity  and  re- 
sponsibility, in  order  that  he  may  with  a  right  under- 
standing read  the  remarkable  statements  that  occur  in 
the  succeeding  chapters. 

The  story  I  am  about  to  relate  is  very  direct,  and  some 
parts  of  it  are  very  strange,  not  to  say  marvellous ;  but 
not  on  account  of  its  strangeness  alone  do  I  ask  for  the 
narrative  a  reading; — that  were  mere  trifling.  What  is 
here  set  down  happened  as  recorded,  but  I  shall  not  at- 
tempt to  explain  things  which  even  to  myself  are  enigmat- 
ical. Let  the  candid  reader  study  the  story  as  I  have  told 
it,  and  make  out  of  it  what  he  can,  or  let  him  pass  the  page 
by  unread — I  shall  not  insist  on  claiming  his  further 
attention.  Only,  if  he  does  read,  I  beg  him  to  read  with 
an  open  mind,  without  prejudice  and  without  predilec- 
tion. 

Who  or  what  I  am  as  a  participant  m  this  work  is  of 
small  importance.  I  mention  my  history  only  for  the 
sake  of  frankness  and  fairness.  I  have  nothing  to  gain 
by  issuing  the  volume.  Neither  do  I  court  praise  nor 
shun  censure.     My  purpose  is  to  tell  the  truth. 

Early  in  the  fifties  I  took  up  my  residence  in  the 
Queen  City,  and  though  a  very  young  man,  found  the 
employment  ready  that  a  friend  had  obtained  for  me 
with  a  manufacturing  firm  engaged  in  a  large  and  com- 
plicated business.  My  duties  were  varied  and  peculiar, 
of  such  a  nature  as  to  tax  body  and  mind  to  the  utmost, 
and  for  several  years  I  served  in  the  most  exacting  oi 
business  details.  Beside  the  labor  which  my  vocation 
entailed,  with  its  manifold  and  multiform  perplexities,  I 
voluntarily  imposed  upon  myself  other  tasks,  which  I 
pursued  in  the  privacy  of  my  own  bachelor  apartments. 
An  inherited  love  for  books  on  abstruse  and  occult  sub- 


"  My  Purpose  is  to  Tell  the  Truth"        3 

jects,  probably  in  part  the  result  o!  my  blood  connection 
with  Dr.  Evan  Llewellyn,  caused  me  to  collect  a  unique 
library,  largely  on  mystical  subjects,  in  which  I  took 
the  keenest  delight.  My  business  and  professional 
duties  by  day,  and  my  studies  at  night,  made  my  life  a 
busy  one. 

In  the  midst  of  my  work  and  reading  I  encountered 
the  character  whose  strange  story  forms  the  essential 
part  of  the  following  narrative.  I  may  anticipate  by  say- 
ing that  the  manuscript  to  follow  only  incidentally  con- 
cerns myself,  and  that  if  possible  I  would  reUnquish  all 
connection  therewith.  It  recites  the  physical,  mental, 
and  moral  adventures  of  one  whose  life  history  was 
abruptly  thrust  upon  my  attention,  and  as  abruptly  inter- 
rupted. The  vicissitudes  of  his  body  and  soul,  circum- 
stances seemed  to  compel  me  to  learn  and  to  make  pub- 
lic. 


CHAPTER    II. 

"never  less  alone  than  when  alone." 

More  than  thirty  years  ago  occurred  the  first  of  the 
series  of  remarkable  events  I  am  now  about  to  relate. 
The  exact  date  I  cannot  recall ;  but  it  was  November,  and. 
to  those  familiar  with  November  weather  in  the  Ohio 
Valley,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  state  that  the  month  is 
one  of  possibilities.  That  is  to  say,  it  is  liable  to  bring 
every  variety  of  weather,  from  the  delicious,  dreamy 
Indian  summer  days  that  linger  late  in  the  fall,  to  a  com- 
bination of  rain,  hail,  snow,  sleet — in  short,  atmospheric 
conditions  sufficiently  aggravating  to  develop  a  suicidal 
mania  in  any  one  the  least  susceptible  to  such  influences. 
While  the  general  character  of  the  month  is  much  the 
same  the  country  over — showing  dull  gray  tones  of  sky, 
abundant  rains  that  penetrate  man  as  they  do  the  earth ; 
cold,  shifting  winds,  that  search  the  very  marrow — it  is 
always  safe  to  count  more  or  less  upon  the  probability 
of  the  unexpected  throughout  the  month. 

The  particular  day  which  ushered  in  the  event  about 
to  be  chronicled  was  one  of  these  possible  heterogeneous 
days  presenting  a  combination  of  sunshine,  shower,  and 
snow,  with  winds  that  rang  all  the  changes  from  balmy  to 
blustery,  a  morning  air  of  caloric  and  an  evening  of 
numbing  cold.  The  early  morning  started  fair  and 
sunny ;  later  came  light  showers,  suddenly  switched  by 
shifting  winds  into  blinding  sleet,  until  the  middle  of  the 
afternoon  found  the  four  winds  and  all  the  elements  com- 
mingled in  one  wild  orgy  with  clashing  and  roar- 
ing as  of  a  great  organ  with  all  the  stops  out,  and  all 
the  storm-fiends  dancing  over  the  key-boards !  Night- 
fall brought  some  semblance  of  order  to  the  sounding 
chaos,  but  still  kept  up  the  wild  music  of  a  typical  No- 


**  Never  Less  Alone  Than  When  Alone  "      5 

vember  day,  with  every  accompaniment  of  bleakness, 
gloom,  and  desolation. 

Thousands  of  chimneys,  exhaling  murky  clouds  of 
bituminous  soot  all  day,  had  covered  the  city  with  the 
proverbial  pall  which  the  winds  in  their  sport  had  shifted 
hither  and  yon,  but  as,  thoroughly  tired  out,  they  sub- 
sided into  silence,  the  smoky  mesh  suddenly  settled  over 
the  houses  and  into  the  streets,  taking  possession  of  the 
city  and  contributing  to  the  melancholy  wretchedness 
of  such  of  the  inhabitants  as  had  to  be  out  of  doors. 
Through  this  smoke  the  red  sun  when  visible  had 
dragged  his  downward  course  in  manifest  discourage- 
ment, and  the  hastening  twilight  soon  gave  place  to  the 
blackness  of  darkness.     Night  reigned  supreme. 

Thirty  years  ago  electric  lighting  was  not  in  vogue, 
and  the  system  of  street  lamps  was  far  less  complete 
than  at  present,  although  the  gas  burned  in  them  may 
not  have  been  any  worse.  The  lamps  were  much  fewer 
and  farther  between,  and  the  light  which  they  emitted 
had  a  feeble,  sickly  aspect,  and  did  not  reach  any  dis- 
tance into  the  moist  and  murky  atmosphere.  And  so 
the  night  was  dismal  enough,  and  the  few  people  upon 
the  street  were  visible  only  as  they  passed  directly  be- 
neath the  lamps  or  in  front  of  lighted  windows ;  seeming 
at  other  times  like  moving  shadows  against  a  black 
ground. 

As  I  am  like  to  be  conspicuous  in  these  pages,  it  may 
be  proper  to  say  that  I  am  very  susceptible  to  atmospheric 
influences.  I  figure  among  my  friends  as  a  man  of  quiet 
disposition,  but  I  am  at  times  morose,  although  I  en- 
deavor to  conceal  this  fact  from  others.  My  nervous 
system  is  a  sensitive  weather-glass.  Sometimes  I  fancy 
that  I  must  have  been  born  under  the  planet  Saturn,  for 
I  find  myself  unpleasantly  influenced  by  moods  ascribed 
to  that  depressing  planet,  more  especially  in  its  disagree- 
able phases,  for  I  regret  to  state  that  I  do  not  find  corre- 
sponding elation,  as  I  should,  in  its  brighter  aspects. 
I  have  an  especial  dislike  for  wintry  weather,  a  dislike 


6  Etidorhpa 

which  I  find  growing  with  my  years,  until  it  has  devel- 
oped almost  into  positive  antipathy  and  dread.  On  the 
day  I  have  described  my  moods  had  varied  with  the 
weather.  The  fitfulness  of  the  winds  had  found  its  way 
into  my  feelings,  and  the  sombre  tone  of  the  clouds  into 
my  meditations.  I  was  restless  as  the  elements,  and  a 
deep  sense  of  dissatisfaction  with  myself  and  everything 
else  possessed  me.  I  could  not  content  myself  in  any 
place  or  position.  Reading  was  distasteful,  writing 
equally  so ;  but  it  occurred  to  me  that  a  brisk  walk,  for  a 
few  blocks,  might  afford  relief.  Muffling  myself  up  in 
my  overcoat  and  fur  cap,  I  took  the  street,  only  to  find 
the  air  gusty  and  raw,  and  I  gave  up  in  still  greater  dis- 
gust, and  returning  home,  after  drawing  the  curtains  and 
locking  the  doors,  planted  myself  in  front  of  a  glowing 
grate  fire,  firmly  resolved  to  rid  myself  of  myself  bj  re- 
sorting to  the  oblivion  of  thought,  revery  or  dream.  To 
sleep  was  impossible,  and  I  sat  moodily  in  an  easy-chair, 
noting  the  quarter  and  half-hour  strokes  as  they  were 
chimed  out  sweetly  from  the  spire  of  St.  Peter's  Cathe- 
dral, a  few  blocks  away. 

Nine  o'clock  passed  with  its  silver-voiced  chime  of 
"Home,  Sweet  Home" ;  ten,  and  then  eleven  strokes  of  the 
ponderous  bell  which  noted  the  hours,  roused  me  to  a 
strenuous  effort  to  shake  off  the  feelings  of  despondency, 
unrest,  and  turbulence,  that  all  combined  to  produce  a 
state  of  mental  and  physical  misery  now  insufferable.  Ris- 
ing suddenly  from  my  chair,  without  a  conscious  effort  I 
walked  mechanically  to  a  book-case,  seized  a  volume  at 
random,  reseated  myself  before  the  fire,  and  opened  the 
book.  It  proved  to  be  an  odd,  neglected  volume,  "Riley's 
Dictionary  of  Latin  Quotations."  At  the  moment  there 
flashed  upon  me  a  conscious  duality  of  existence.  Had 
the  old  book  some  mesmeric  power?  I  seemed  to  myself 
two  persons,  and  I  quickly  said  aloud,  as  if  addressing 
my  double :  "If  I  cannot  quiet  you,  turbulent  Spirit,  I  can 
at  least  adapt  myself  to  your  condition.  I  will  read  this 
book  haphazard   from   bottom   to  top,   or  backward,   if 


"  Never  Less  Alone  Than  When  Alone  "      7 

necessary,  and  if  this  does  not  change  the  subject  often 
enough.  I  will  try  Noah  Webster."  Opening  the  book 
mechanically  at  page  297,  I  glanced  at  the  bottom  line 
and  read,  ''Nnnquani  minus  solus  quam  cum  solus" 
(Never  less  alone  than  when  alone).  These  w'ords  ar- 
rested my  thoughts  at  once,  as,  by  a  singular  chance,  they 
seemed  to  fit  my  mood ;  was  it  or  was  it  not  some  con- 
scious invisible  intelligence  that  caused  me  to  select  that 
page,  and  brought  the  apothegm  to  my  notice  ? 

Again,  like  a  flash,  came  the  consciousness  of  duality, 
and  I  began  to  argue  with  my  other  self.  "This  is  arrant 
nonsense,"  I  cried  aloud ;  "even  though  Cicero  did  say  it, 
and  it  is  on  a  par  with  many  other  delusive  maxims 
that  have  for  so  many  years  embittered  the  existence 
of  our  modern  youth  by  misleading  thought.  Do  you 
know,  Mr.  Cicero,  that  this  statement  is  not  sound  ?  That 
it  is  unworthy  the  position  you  occupy  in  history  as  a 
thinker  and  philosopher?  That  it  is  a  contradiction  in 
itself,  for  if  a  man  is  alone  he  is  alone,  and  that  set- 
tles it?" 

I  mused  in  this  vein  a  few  moments,  and  then  resumed 
aloud  :  "It  won't  do,  it  won't  do  ;  if  one  is  alone — the  word 
is  absolute — he  is  single,  isolated,  in  short,  alone ;  and 
there  can  by  no  manner  of  possibility  be  anyone  else  pres- 
ent. Take  myself,  for  instance ;  I  am  the  sole  occupant 
of  this  apartment ;  I  am  alone,  and  yet  you  say  in  so  many 
words  that  I  was  never  less  alone  than  at  this  instant." 
It  was  not  without  some  misgiving  that  I  uttered  these 
words,  for  the  strange  consciousness  of  my  own  duality 
constantly  grew  stronger,  and  I  could  not  shake  ofif  the  re- 
flection that  even  now  there  were  two  of  myself  in  the 
room,  and  that  I  was  not  so  much  alone  as  I  endeavored 
to  convince  myself. 

This  feeling  oppressed  me  like  an  incubus ;  I  must 
throw  it  ofif,  and,  rising,  I  tossed  the  book  upon  the  table, 
exclaiming :  "What  folly  !  I  am  alone — positively  there 
is  no  other  living  thing  visible  or  invisible  in  the  room." 
I  hesitated  as  I  spoke,  for  the  strange,  undefined  sensa- 


8  Etidorhpa 

tion  that  I  was  not  alone  had  become  ahnost  a  conviction ; 
but  the  sound  of  my  voice  encouraged  me,  and  I  deter- 
mined to  discuss  the  subject,  and  I  remarked  in  a  full, 
strong  voice:  "I  am  surely  alone;  I  know  I  am!  Why, 
I  will  wager  everything  I  possess,  even  to  my  soul,  that 
I  am  alone."  I  stood  facing  the  smouldering  embers  of 
the  fire  which  I  had  neglected  to  replenish,  uttering  these 
words  to  settle  the  controversy  for  good  and  all  with  one 
person  of  my  dual  self,  but  the  other  ego  seemed  to  dis- 
sent violently,  when  a  soft,  clear  voice  claimed  my  ear : 

"You  have  lost  your  wager ;  you  are  not  alone." 

I  turned  instantly  toward  the  direction  of  the  sound, 
and,  to  my  amazement,  saw  a  white-haired  man  seated  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  room,  gazing  at  me  with  the 
utmost  composure.  I  am  not  a  coward,  nor  a  believer  in 
ghosts  or  illusions,  and  yet  that  sight  froze  me  where  I 
stood.  It  had  no  supernatural  appearance — on  the  con- 
trary, was  a  plain,  ordinary,  flesh-and-blood  man ;  but 
the  weather,  the  experiences  of  the  day.  the  weird,  in- 
clement night,  had  all  conspired  to  strain  my  nerves  to  the 
highest  point  of  tension,  and  I  trembled  from  head  to 
foot.  Noting  this,  the  stranger  said  pleasantly :  "Quiet 
yourself,  my  dear  sir ;  you  have  nothing  to  fear ;  be 
seated."  I  obeyed  mechanically,  and  regaining  in  a  few 
moments  some  semblance  of  composure,  took  a  mental 
inventory  of  my  visitor.  Who  is  he?  What  is  he?  how 
did  he  enter  without  my  notice,  and  why?  what  is  his  busi- 
ness? were  all  questions  that  flashed  into  my  mind  in 
quick  succession,  and  quickly  flashed  out  unanswered. 

The  stranger  sat  eyeing  me  composedly,  even  pleas- 
antly, as  if  waiting  for  me  to  reach  some  conclusion  re- 
garding himself.  At  last  I  surmised:  "He  is  a  maniac 
who  has  found  his  way  here  by  methods  peculiar  to  the 
insane,  and  my  personal  safety  demands  that  I  use  him 
discreetly." 

"Very  good,"  he  remarked,  as  though  reading  my 
thoughts ;  "as  well  think  that  as  anything  else." 


"  Never  Less  Alone  Than  When  Alone  "      9 

"But  why  are  you  here?  What  is  your  business?"  I 
asked. 

"You  have  made  and  lost  a  wager,"  he  said.  "You 
have  committed  an  act  of  folly  in  making  positive  state- 
ments regarding  a  matter  about  which  you  know  nothing 
— a  very  common  failing,  by  the  way,  on  the  part  of 
mankind,  and  concerning  which  I  wish  first  to  set  you 
straight." 

The  ironical  coolness  with  which  he  said  this  pro- 
voked me,  and  I  hastily  rejoined :  "You  are  impertinent ; 
I  must  ask  you  to  leave  my  house  at  once." 

"\^ery  well,"  he  answered ;  "but  if  you  insist  upon  this, 
I  shall,  on  behalf  of  Cicero,  claim  the  stake  of  your  volun- 
tary wager,  which  means  that  I  must  first,  by  natural 
though  violent  means,  release  your  soul  from  your  body." 
vSo  saying  he  arose,  drew  from  an  inner  pocket  a  long,  keen 
knife,  the  blade  of  which  quiveringly  glistened  as  he  laid 
it  upon  the  table.  Moving  his  chair  so  as  to  be  within 
easy  reach  of  the  gleaming  weapon,  he  sat  down,  and 
again  regarded  me  wath  the  same  quiet  composure  I 
had  noted,  and  which  was  fast  dispelling  my  first  im- 
pression regarding  his  sanity. 

I  was  not  prepared  for  his  strange  action ;  in  truth,  I 
was  not  prepared  for  anything ;  my  mind  was  confused 
concerning  the  whole  night's  doings,  and  I  was  unable 
to  reason  clearly  or  consecutively,  or  even  to  satisfy  my- 
self as  to  what  I  did  think,  if  indeed  I  thought  at  all. 

The  sensation  of  fear,  however,  was  fast  leaving  me ; 
there  was  something  reassuring  in  my  unbidden  guest's 
perfect  ease  of  manner,  and  the  mild,  though  searching 
gaze  of  his  eyes,  which  were  wonderful  in  their  expres- 
sion. I  began  to  observe  his  personal  characteristics, 
which  impressed  me  favorably,  and  yet  were  extraor- 
dinary. He  seemed  nearly  six  feet  tall,  and  perfectly 
straight :  well  proportioned,  with  no  tendency  either  to 
leanness  or  obesity.  But  his  head  was  an  object  from 
which  I  could  not  take  my  eyes — such  a  head  surely  I  had 


lo  Etidorhpa 

never  before  seen  on  mortal  shoulders.  The  chin,  as  seen 
through  his  silver  beard,  was  rounded  and  well  developed, 
the  mouth  straight,  with  pleasant  lines  about  it,  the  jaws 
square  and,  like  the  mouth,  indicating  decision,  the  eyes 
deep  set  and  arched  -with,  heavy  eyebrows,  and  the  whole 
surmounted  by  a  forehead  so.  vast,  so  high,  that  it  was 
almost  a  deformity,  and  yet  it  did  not  impress  me  un- 
pleasantly ;  it  was  the  forehead  of  a  scholar,  a  profound 
thinker,  a  deep  student.  The  nose  was  inclined  to  aqui- 
line, and  quite  large.  The  contour  of  the  head  and  face 
impressed  me  as  indicating  a  man  of  learning,  one  who 
had  given  a  lifetime  to  experimental  as  well  as  speculative 
thought.  His  voice  was  mellow,  clear,  and  distinct,  al- 
ways pleasantly  modulated  and  soft,  never  loud  nor  un- 
pleasant in  the  least  degree.  One  remarkable  feature  I 
must  not  fail  to  mention — his  hair ;  this,  while  thin  and 
scant  upon  the  top  of  his  head,  was  long,  and  reached  to 
his  shoulders ;  his  beard  was  of  unusual  length,  descend- 
ing almost  to  his  waist ;  his  hair,  eyebrows  and  beard 
were  all  of  singular  whiteness  and  purity,  almost  trans- 
parent, a  silvery  whiteness  that  seemed  an  aureolar  sheen 
in  the  glare  of  the  gaslight.  What  struck  me  as  partic- 
ularly remarkable  was  that  his  skin  looked  as  soft  and 
smooth  as  that  of  a  child ;  there  was  not  a  blemish  in  it. 
His  age  was  a  puzzle  none  could  guess ;  stripped  of  his 
hair,  or  the  color  of  it  changed,  he  might  be  twenty-five — 
given  a  few  wrinkles,  he  might  be  ninety.  Taken  alto- 
gether. I  had  never  seen  his  like,  nor  anything  approach- 
ing his  like,  and  for  an  instant  there  was  a  faint  sugges- 
tion to  my  mind  that  he  was  not  of  this  earth,  but 
belonged  to  some  other  planet. 

I  now  fancy  he  must  have  read  my  impressions  of  him 
as  these  ideas  shaped  themselves  in  my  brain,  and  that 
he  was  quietly  waiting  for  me  to  regain  a  degree  of  self- 
possession  that  would  allow  him  to  disclose  the  purpose 
of  his  visit. 

He  was  first  to  break  the  silence :  "I  see  that  you 
are  not  disposed  to  pay  your  wager  any  more  than  I  am 


"  Never  Less  Alone  Than  When  Alone  "     1 1 

to  collect  it,  so  we  will  not  discuss  that.  I  admit  that 
my  introduction  to-night  was  abrupt,  but  you  cannot 
deny  that  you  challenged  me  to  appear."  I  was  not  clear 
upon  the  point,  and  said  so.  "Your  memory  is  at  fault," 
he  continued,  "if  you  cannot  recall  your  experiences  of 
the  day  just  past.  Did  you  not  attempt  to  interest  your- 
self in  modern  book  lore,  to  fix  your  mind  in  turn  upon 
history,  chemistry,  botany,  poetry,  and  general  literature? 
And  all  these  failing,  did  you  not  deliberately  challenge 
Cicero  to  a  practical  demonstration  of  an  old  apothegm 
of  his  that  has  survived  for  centuries,  and  of  your  own 
free  will  did  not  you  make  a  wager  that,  as  an  admirer 
of  Cicero's,  I  am  free  to  accept?"  To  all  this  I  could 
but  silently  assent.  "Very  good,  then ;  we  will  not  pursue 
this  subject  further,  as  it  is  not  relevant  to  my  purpose, 
which  is  to  acquaint  you  with  a  narrative  of  unusual 
interest,  upon  certain  conditions,  with  which  if  you  com- 
ply, you  will  not  only  serve  yourself,  but  me  as  well." 

"Please  name  the  conditions,"  I  said. 

"They  are  simple  enough,"  he  answered.  "The  narra- 
tive I  speak  of  is  in  manuscript.  I  shall  produce  it  in  the 
near  future,  and  my  design  is  to  read  it  aloud  to  you,  or 
to  allow  you  to  read  it  to  me.  as  you  may  select.  Further, 
my  wish  is  that  during  the  reading  you  shall  interpose 
any  objection  or  question  that  you  deem  proper.  This 
reading  will  occupy  many  evenings,  and  I  shall  of  neces- 
sity be  with  you  often.  When  the  reading  is  concluded, 
we  shall  seal  the  package  securely,  and  I  shall  leave  you 
forever.  You  will  then  deposit  the  manuscript  in  some 
safe  place,  and  let  it  remain  for  thirty  years.  When  this 
period  has  elapsed,  I  wish  you  to  publish  this  history  to 
the  world." 

"Your  conditions  seem  easy,"  I  said,  after  a  few  sec- 
onds' pause. 

"They  are  certainly  very  simple;  do  you  accept?" 

I  hesitated,  for  the  prospect  of  giving  myself  up  to  a 
succession  of  interviews  with  this  extraordinary  and  mys- 
terious personage  seemed  to  require  consideration.     He 


1 2  Etidorhpa 

evidently  divined  my  thoughts,  for,  rising  from  his  chair, 
he  said  abruptly :  "Let  me  have  your  answer  now." 

I  debated  the  matter  no  further,  but  answered:  "I  ac- 
cept, conditionally." 

"Name  your  conditions,"  the  guest  replied. 

"I  will  either  publish  the  work,  or  induce  some  other 
man  to  do  so." 

"Good,"  he  said  ;  "I  shall  see  you  again,"  with  a  polite 
bow ;  and  turning  to  the  door  which  I  had  previously 
locked,  he  opened  it  softly,  and  with  a  quiet  "Good-night" 
disappeared  in  the  hallway. 

I  looked  after  him  with  bewildered  senses ;  but  a  sud- 
den impulse  caused  me  to  glance  toward  the  table,  when 
I  saw  that  he  had  forgotten  his  knife.  With  the  view  of 
returning  this,  I  reached  to  pick  it  up,  but  my  finger-tips 
no  sooner  touched  the  handle  than  a  sudden  chill  shivered 
along  my  nerves.  Not  as  an  electric  shock,  but  rather  as 
a  sensation  of  extreme  cold  was  the  current  that  ran 
through  me  in  an  instant.  Rushing  into  the  hallway 
to  the  landing  of  the  stairs,  I  called  after  the  mysterious 
being,  "You  have  forgotten  your  knife,"  but  beyond  the 
faint  echo  of  my  voice.  I  heard  no  sound.  The  phantom 
was  gone.  A  moment  later  t  was  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs,  and  had  thrown  open  the  door.  A  street  lamp 
shed  an  uncertain  light  in  front  of  the  house.  I  stepped 
out  and  listened  intently  for  a  moment,  but  not  a  sound 
was  audible,  if  indeed  I  except  the  beating  of  my  own 
heart,  which  throbbed  so  wildly  that  I  fancied  I  heard  it. 
No  footfall  echoed  from  the  deserted  streets ;  all  was 
silent  as  a  churchyard,  and  I  closed  and  locked  the  door, 
softly  tiptoed  my  way  back  to  my  room,  and  sank  col- 
lapsed into  an  easy-chair.  I  was  more  than  exhausted ;  I 
quivered  from  head  to  foot,  not  with  cold,  but  with  a 
strange  nervous  chill  that  found  intensest  expression  in 
my  spinal  column,  and  seemed  to  flash  up  and  down  my 
back,  vibrating  like  a  feverous  pulse.  This  active  pain 
was  succeeded  by  a  feeling  of  frozen  numbness,  and  I 
sat  I  know  not  how  long,  trying  to  tranquillize  myself 


"  Never  Less  Alone  Than  When  Alone  "     13 

and  think  temperately  of  the  night's  occurrence.  By 
degrees  I  recovered  my  normal  sensations,  and  direct- 
ing my  will  in  the  channel  of  sober  reasoning,  I  said  to 
myself:  "There  can  be  no  mistake  about  his  visit,  for  his 
knife  is  here  as  a  witness  to  the  fact.  So  much  is  sure, 
and  I  will  secure  that  testimony  at  all  events."  With 
this  reflection  I  turned  to  the  table,  but  to  my  astonish- 
ment I  discovered  that  the  knife  had  disappeared.  It 
needed  but  this  miracle  to  start  the  perspiration  in  great 
cold  beads  from  every  pore.  My  brain  was  in  a  whirl, 
and  reeling  into  a  chair,  I  covered  my  face  with  my 
hands.  How  long  I  sat  in  this  posture  I  do  not  remem- 
ber. I  only  know  that  I  began  to  doubt  my  own  sanity, 
and  wondered  if  this  were  not  the  way  people  became  de- 
ranged. Had  not  my  peculiar  habits  of  isolation,  irreg- 
ular and  intense  study,  erratic  living,  all  conspired  to 
imseat  reason?  Surely  there  was  every  ground  to  believe 
so ;  and  yet  I  was  able  still  to  think  consistently  and  hold 
steadily  to  a  single  line  of  thought.  Insane  people  cannot 
do  that,  I  reflected,  and  gradually  the  tremor  and  excite- 
ment wore  away.  When  I  had  become  calmer  and  more 
collected,  and  my  sober  judgment  said,  "Go  to  bed;  sleep 
just  as  long  as  you  can ;  hold  your  eyelids  down,  and 
when  you  awake  refreshed,  as  you  will,  think  out  the 
whole  subject  at  your  leisure,"  I  arose,  threw  open  the 
shutters,  and  found  that  day  was  breaking.  Hastily  un- 
dressing I  went  to  bed,  and  closed  my  eyes,  vaguely  con- 
scious of  some  soothing  guardianship.  Perhaps  because 
I  was  physically  exhausted,  I  soon  lost  myself  in  the 
oblivion  of  sleep. 

I  did  not  dream — at  least  I  could  not  afterwards  re- 
member my  dream  if  I  had  one,  but  I  recollect  thinking 
that  somebody  struck  ten  distinct  blows  on  my  door, 
which  seemed  to  me  to  be  of  metal  and  very  sonorous. 
These  ten  blows  in  my  semi-conscious  state  I  counted. 
I  lay  very  quiet  for  a  time  collecting  my  thoughts  and 
noting  various  objects  about  the  room,  until  my  eye 
caught  the  dial  of  a  French  clock  upon  the  mantel.     It 


14  Etidorhpa 

was  a  few  minutes  past  ten,  and  the  blows  I  had  heard 
were  the  strokes  of  the  hammer  upon  the  gong  in  the 
clock.  The  sun  was  shining  into  the  room,  which  was 
quite  cold,  for  the  fire  had  gone  out.  I  arose,  dressed 
myself  quickly,  and  after  thoroughly  laving  my  face  and 
hands  in  ice-cold  water,  felt  considerably  refreshed. 

Before  going  out  to  breakfast,  while  looking  around 
the  room  for  a  few  things  wdiich  I  wanted  to  take  with 
me,  I  espied  upon  the  table  a  long  white  hair.  This  was 
indeed  a  surprise,  for  I  had  about  concluded  that  my 
adventure  of  the  previous  night  was  a  species  of  waking 
nightmare,  the  result  of  overworked  brain  and  weakened 
body.  But  here  w^as  tangible  evidence  to  the  contrary, 
an  assurance  that  my  mysterious  visitor  was  not  a  fancy 
or  a  dream,  and  his  parting  w^ords,  "I  shall  see  you  again," 
recurred  to  me  with  singular  effect.  "He  will  see  me 
again ;  very  well ;  I  will  preserve  this  evidence  of  his 
visit  for  future  use."  I  wound  the  delicate  filament  into  a 
little  coil,  folded  it  carefully  in  a  bit  of  paper,  and  con- 
signed it  to  a  corner  in  my  pocket-book,  though  not  with- 
out some  misgiving  that  it,  too,  might  disappear  as  did 
the  knife. 

The  strange  experience  of  that  night  had  a  good  effect 
on  me ;  I  became  more  regular  in  all  my  habits,  took  abun- 
dant sleep  and  exercise,  was  more  methodical  in  my  modes 
of  study  and  reasoning,  and  in  a  short  time  found  myself 
vastly  improved  in  every  way,  mentally  and  physically. 

The  days  went  fleeting  into  weeks,  the  weeks  into 
months,  and  while  the  form  and  figure  of  the  white-haired 
stranger  were  seldom  absent  from  my  mind,  he  came  no 
more. 


CHAPTER    III. 

A  FRIENDLY  CONFERENCE, 

It  is  rare,  in  our  present  civilization,  to  find  a  man  who 
lives  alone.  This  remark  does  not  apply  to  hermits  or 
persons  of  abnormal  or  perverted  mental  tendencies,  but 
to  the  majority  of  mankind  living  and  moving  actively 
among  their  fellows,  and  engaged  in  the  ordinary  occu- 
pations of  humanity.  Every  man  must  have  at  least 
one  confidant,  either  of  his  own  household  or  within  the 
circle  of  his  intimate  friends.  There  may  possibly  be 
rare  exceptions  among  persons  of  genius  in  statecraft, 
war,  or  commerce,  but  it  is  doubtful  even  in  such  in- 
stances if  any  keep  all  their  thoughts  to  themselves,  her- 
metically sealed  from  their  fellows.  As  a  prevailing  rule, 
either  a  loving  wife  or  very  near  friend  shares  the  inner 
thought  of  the  most  secretive  individual,  even  when 
secrecy  seems  an  indispensable  element  to  success.  The 
tendency  to  a  free  interchange  of  ideas  and  experiences 
is  almost  universal,  instinct  prompting  the  natural  man 
to  unburden  his  most  sacred  thought,  when  the  proper 
confidant  and  the  proper  time  come  for  the  disclosure. 

For  months  I  kept  to  myself  the  events  narrated  in 
the  preceding  chapter.  And  this  for  several  reasons : 
first,  the  dread  of  ridicule  that  would  follow  the  relation 
of  the  fantastic  occurrences,  and  the  possible  suspicion  of 
my  sanity,  that  might  result  from  the  recital ;  second,  very 
grave  doubts  as  to  the  reality  of  my  experiences.  But 
by  degrees  self-confidence  was  restored,  as  I  reasoned 
the  matter  over  and  reassured  myself  by  occasional  con- 
templation of  the  silvery  hair  I  had  coiled  in  my  pocket- 
book,  and  which  at  first  I  had  expected  would  vanish  as 
did  the  stranger's  knife.    There    came  upon  me  a  feeling 


1 6  Etidorhpa 

that  I  should  see  my  weird  visitor  again,  and  at  an  early 
day.  I  resisted  this  impression,  for  it  was  a  touch  of  the 
idea,  rather  than  a  thought,  but  the  vague  expectation 
grew  upon  me  in  spite  of  myself,  until  at  length  it  be- 
came a  conviction  which  no  argument  or  logic  could 
shake.  Curiously  enough,  as  the  original  incident  re- 
ceded into  the  past,  this  new  idea  thrust  itself  into  the 
foreground,  and  I  began  in  my  own  mind  to  court  another 
interview.  At  times,  sitting  alone  after  night,  I  felt  that 
I  was  watched  by  unseen  eyes ;  these  eyes  haunted  me  in 
my  solitude,  and  I  was  morally  sure  of  the  presence  of 
another  than  myself  in  the  room.  The  sensation  was  at 
first  unpleasant,  and  I  tried  to  throw  it  off,  with  partial 
success.  But  only  for  a  little  while  could  I  banish  the 
intrusive  idea,  and  as  the  thought  took  form,  and  the  in- 
visible presence  became  more  actual  to  consciousness,  I 
hoped  that  the  stranger  would  make  good  his  parting 
promise,  "I  shall  see  you  again." 

On  one  thing  I  was  resolved ;  I  would  at  least  be  better 
informed  on  the  subject  of  hallucinations  and  apparitions, 
and  not  be  taken  unawares  as  I  had  been.  To  this  end  I 
decided  to  confer  with  my  friend.  Professor  Chickering, 
a  quiet,  thoughtful  man,  of  varied  accomplishments,  and 
thoroughly  read  upon  a  great  number  of  topics,  especially 
in  the  literature  of  the  marvellous. 

So  to  the  Professor  I  went,  after  due  appointment,  and 
confided  to  him  full  particulars  of  my  adventure.  He 
listened  patiently  throughout,  and  when  I  had  finished, 
assured  me  in  a  matter-of-fact  way  that  such  hallucina- 
tions were  by  no  means  rare.  His  remark  was  provok- 
ing, for  I  did  not  expect  from  the  patient  interest  he  had 
shown  while  I  was  telling  my  story,  that  the  whole  mat- 
ter would  be  dismissed  thus  summarily.  I  said  with 
some  warmth : 

"But  this  was  not  a  hallucination.  I  tried  at  first  to 
persuade  myself  that  it  was  illusory,  but  the  more  I  have 
thought  the  experience  over,  the  more  real  it  becomes  to 
me." 


A  Friendly  Conference  17 

"Perhaps  you  were  dreaming,"  suggested  the  Pro- 
fessor. 

"No,"  I  answered;  "I  have  tried  that  hypothesis,  and 
it  will  not  do.    Many  things  make  that  view  untenable." 

"Do  not  be  too  sure  of  that,"  he  said ;  "you  were,  by 
your  own  account,  in  a  highly  nervous  condition,  and 
physically  tired.  It  is  possible,  perhaps  probable,  that 
in  this  state,  as  you  sat  in  your  chair,  you  dozed  off  for 
a  short  interval,  during  which  the  illusion  flashed  through 
your  mind." 

"How  do  you  explain  the  fact  that  incidents  occupy- 
ing a  large  portion  of  the  night  occurred  in  an  interval 
which  you  describe  as  a  flash?" 

"Easily  enough  ;  in  dreams  time  may  not  exist ;  periods 
embracing  weeks  or  months  may  be  reduced  to  an  in- 
stant. Long  journeys,  hours  of  conversation,  or  a  multi- 
tude of  transactions,  may  be  compressed  into  a  term 
measured  by  the  opening  or  closing  of  a  door,  or  the  strik- 
ing of  a  clock.  In  dreams,  ordinary  standards  of  reason 
find  no  place,  while  ideas  or  events  chase  through  the 
mind  more  rapidly  than  thought." 

"Conceding  all  this,  why  did  I,  considering  the  unusual 
character  of  the  incidents,  accept  them  as  real,  as  sub- 
stantial, as  natural,  indeed,  as  the  most  commonplace 
events?" 

"There  is  nothing  extraordinary  in  that,"  he  replied. 
"In  dreams  all  sorts  of  absurdities,  impossibilities,  dis- 
cordancies, and  violation  of  natural  law  appear  to  be  reali- 
ties, without  exciting  the  least  surprise  or  suspicion. 
Imagination  runs  riot  and  is  supreme,  and  reason  for  the 
time  is  dormant.  We  see  ghosts,  spirits,  the  forms  of  per- 
sons dead  or  living — we  suffer  pain,  pleasure,  hunger — 
and  all  sensations  and  emotions,  without  a  moment's  ques- 
tion of  their  realit)'." 

"Do  any  of  the  subjects  of  our  dreams  or  visions  leave 
tangible  evidences  of  their  presence?" 

"Assuredly  not,"  he  answered,  with  an  incredulous, 
half-impatient  gesture ;  "the  idea  is  absurd." 


1 8  Etidorhpa 

"Then  I  was  not  dreaming,"  I  mused. 

Without  looking  at  me,  the  Professor  went  on :  "These 
false  presentiments  may  have  their  origin  in  other  ways, 
as  from  mental  disorders  caused  by  indigestion.  Nicolai, 
a  noted  bookseller  of  Berlin,  was  thus  afflicted.  His  ex- 
periences are  interesting  and  possibly  suggestive.  Let 
me  read  some  of  them  to  you." 

The  Professor  hereupon  glanced  over  his  bookshelf, 
selected  a  volume,  and  proceeded  to  read  :* 

"I  generally  saw  human  forms  of  both  sexes ;  but  they  usually 
seemed  not  to  take  the  smallest  notice  of  each  other,  moving  as 
in  a  market  place,  where  all  are  eager  to  press  through  the  crowd ; 
at  times,  however,  they  seemed  to  be  transacting  business  with 
each  other.  I  also  saw  several  times,  people  on  horseback,  dogs, 
and  birds. 

"All  these  phantasms  appeared  to  me  in  their  natural  size,  and 
as  distinct  as  if  alive,  exhibiting  different  shades  of  carnation  in 
the  uncovered  parts,  as  well  as  different  colors  and  fashions  in 
their  dresses,  though  the  colors  seemed  somewhat  paler  than  in 
real  nature.  None  of  the  figures  appeared  particularly  terrible, 
comical,  or  disgusting,  most  of  them  being  of  indifferent  shape, 
and  some  presenting  a  pleasant  aspect.  The  longer  these  phan- 
tasms continued  to  visit  me,  the  more  frequently  did  they  return, 
while  at  the  same  time  they  increased  in  number  about  four  weeks 
after  they  had  first  appeared.  I  also  began  to  hear  them  talk: 
these  phantoms  conversed  among  themselves,  but  more  frequently 
addressed  their  discourse  to  me ;  their  speeches  were  uncommonly 
short,  and  never  of  an  unpleasant  turn.  At  different  times  there 
appeared  to  me  both  dear  and  sensible  friends  of  both  sexes, 
whose  addresses  tended  to  appease  my  grief,  which  had  not  yet 
wholly  subsided :  their  consolatory  speeches  were  in  general  ad- 
dressed to  me  when  I  was  alone.  Sometimes,  however,  I  was 
accosted  by  these  consoling  friends  while  I  was  engaged  in  com- 
pany, and  not  infrequently  while  real  persons  were  speaking  to  me. 
These  consolatory  addresses  consisted  sometimes  of  abrupt 
phrases,  and  at  other  times  they  were  regularly  executed." 


*This  work  I  have  found  to  be  Vol.  IV.  of  Chambers'  Miscel- 
lany, published  by  Gould  and  Lincoln,  Boston. — J.  U.  L. 


A  Friendly  Conference  19 

Here  I  interrupted:  "I  note,  Professor,  that  Mr.  Nico- 
lai  knew  these  forms  to  be  illusions." 

Without  answering  my  remark,  he  continued  to  read : 

"There  is  in  imagination  a  potency  far  exceeding  the  fabled 
power  of  Aladdin's  lamp.  How  often  does  one  sit  in  wintry  even- 
ing musings,  and  trace  in  the  glowing  embers  the  features  of  an 
absent  friend?  Imagination,  with  its  magic  wand,  will  there  build 
a  city  with  its  countless  spires,  or  marshal  contending  armies,  or 
drive  the  tempest-shattered  ship  upon  the  ocean.  The  following 
story,  related  by  Scott,  affords  a  good  illustration  of  this  prin- 
ciple: 

"  'Not  long  after  the  death  of  an  illustrious  poet,  who  had  filled, 
while  living,  a  great  station  in  the  eyes  of  the  public,  a  literary 
friend,  to  whom  the  deceased  had  been  well  known,  was  engaged 
during  the  darkening  twilight  of  an  autumn  evening  in  perusing 
one  of  the  publications  which  professed  to  detail  the  habits  and 
opinions  of  the  distinguished  individual  who  was  now  no  more. 
As  the  reader  had  enjoyed  the  intimacy  of  the  deceased  to  a  con- 
siderable degree,  he  was  deeply  interested  in  the  publication,  which 
contained  some  particulars  relating  to  himself  and  other  friends. 
A  visitor  was  sitting  in  the  apartment,  who  was  also  engaged  in 
reading.  Their  sitting-room  opened  into  an  entrance  hall,  rather 
fantastically  fitted  up  with  articles  of  armor,  skins  of  wild  animals, 
and  the  like.  It  was  when  laying  down  his  book,  and  passing  into 
this  hall,  through  which  the  moon  was  beginning  to  shine,  that  the 
indiridual  of  whom  I  speak  saw  right  before  him,  in  a  standing 
posture,  the  exact  representation  of  his  departed  friend,  whose 
recollection  had  been  so  strongly  brought  to  his  imagination.  He 
stopped  for  a  single  moment,  so  as  to  notice  the  wonderful  ac- 
curacy with  which  fancy  had  impressed  upon  the  bodily  eye  the 
peculiarities  of  dress  and  position  of  the  illustrious  poet.  Sensible, 
however,  of  the  delusion,  he  felt  no  sentiment  save  that  of  wonder 
at  the  extraordinary  accuracy  of  the  resemblance,  and  stepped 
onward  to  the  figure,  which  resolved  itself  as  he  approached  into 
the  various  materials  of  which  it  was  composed.  These  were 
merely  a  screen  occupied  by  great  coats,  shawls,  plaids,  and  such 
other  articles  as  are  usually  found  in  a  country  entrance  hall.  The 
spectator  returned  to  the  spot  from  which  he  had  seen  the  illusion, 
and  endeavored  with  all  his  power  to  recall  the  image  which  had 
been  so  singularly  vivid.  But  this  he  was  unable  to  do.  And  the 
person  who  had  witnessed  the  apparition,  or,  more  properly,  whose 


20  Etidorhpa 

excited  state  had  been  the  means  of  raising  it,  had  only  to  return 
to  the  apartment,  and  tell  his  young  friend  under  what  a  striking 
hallucination  he  had  for  a  moment  labored.'  " 

Here  I  was  constrained  to  call  the  Professor  to  a  halt. 
"Your  stories  are  very  interesting,"  I  said,  "but  I  fail 
to  perceive  any  analogy  in  either  the  conditions  or  the  in- 
cidents, to  my  experience.  I  was  fully  awake  and  con- 
scious at  the  time,  and  the  man  I  saw  appeared  and  moved 
about  in  the  full  glare  of  the  gaslight — " 

"Perhaps  not,"  he  answered ;  "I  am  simply  giving  you 
some  general  illustrations  of  the  subject.  But  here  is  a 
case  more  to  the  point." 

Again  he  read : 

"A  lady  was  once  passing  through  a  wood,  in  the  darkening 
twilight  of  a  stormy  evening,  to  visit  a  friend  who  was  watching 
over  a  dying  child.  The  clouds  were  thick — the  rain  beginning  to 
fall;  darkness  was  increasing;  the  wind  was  moaning  mournfully 
through  the  trees.  The  lady's  heart  almost  failed  her  as  she  saw 
that  she  had  a  mile  to  walk  through  the  woods  in  the  gathering 
gloom.  But  the  reflection  of  the  situation  of  her  friend  forbade 
her  turning  back.  Excited  and  trembling,  she  called  to  her  aid  a 
nervous  resolution,  and  pressed  onward.  She  had  not  proceeded 
far  when  she  beheld  in  the  path  before  her  the  movement  of  .some 
very  indistinct  object.  It  appeared  to  keep  a  little  distance  ahead 
of  her,  and  as  she  made  efforts  to  get  nearer  to  see  what  it  was,  it 
seemed  proportionally  to  recede.  The  lady  began  to  feel  rather 
unpleasantly.  There  was  some  pale  white  object  certainly  dis- 
cernible before  her,  and  it  appeared  mysteriously  to  float  along, 
at  a  regular  distance,  without  any  effort  at  motion.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  lady's  good  sense  and  unusual  resolution,  a  cold  chill  began 
to  come  over  her.  She  made  every  effort  to  resist  her  fears,  and 
soon  succeeded  in  drawing  nearer  the  mysterious  object,  when 
she  was  appalled  at  beholding  the  features  of  her  friend's  child, 
cold  in  death,  wrapt  in  its  shroud.  She  gazed  earnestly,  and  there 
it  remained  distinct  and  clear  before  her  eyes.  She  considered  it  a 
premonition  that  her  friend's  child  was  dead,  and  that  she  must 
hasten  to  her  aid.  But  there  was  the  apparition  directly  in  her 
path.  She  must  pass  it.  Taking  up  a  little  stick,  she  forced  her- 
self along  to  the  object,  and  behold,  some  little  animal  scampered 


A  Friendly  Conference  21 

away.     It  was  this  that  her  excited  imagination  had  transformed 
into  the  corpse  of  an  infant  in  its  winding  sheet." 

I  was  a  little  irritated,  and  once  more  interrupted  the 
reader  warmly :  "This  is  exasperating.  Now  what  resem- 
blance is  there  between  the  vagaries  of  a  hysterical,  weak- 
minded  woman  and  my  case?" 

He  smiled,  and  again  read  : 

"The  numerous  stories  told  of  ghosts,  or  the  spirits  of  persons 
who  are  dead,  will  in  most  instances  be  found  to  have  originated 
in  diseased  imagination,  aggravated  by  some  abnormal  defect  of 
mind.  We  may  mention  a  remarkable  case  in  point,  and  one  which 
is  not  mentioned  in  English  works  on  this  subject;  it  is  told  by  a 
compiler  of  Les  Causes  Celebres.  Two  young  noblemen,  the 
Marquises  De  Rambouillet  and  De  Precy,  belonging  to  two  of 
the  first  families  of  France,  made  an  agreement,  in  the  warmth  of 
their  friendship,  that  the  one  who  died  first  should  return  to  the 
other  with  tidings  of  the  world  to  come.  Soon  afterward  De 
Rambouillet  went  to  the  wars  in  Flanders,  while  De  Precy  re- 
mained at  Paris,  stricken  by  a  fever.  Lying  alone  in  bed,  and 
severely  ill,  De  Precy  one  day  heard  a  rustling  of  his  bed  curtains, 
and  turning  round,  saw  his  friend  De  Rambouillet,  in  full  military 
attire.  The  sick  man  sprung  over  the  bed  to  welcome  his  friend, 
but  the  other  receded,  and  said  that  he  had  come  to  fulfil  his 
promise,  having  been  killed  on  that  very  day.  He  further  said  that 
it  behooved  De  Precy  to  think  more  of  the  after  world,  as  all  that 
was  said  of  it  was  true,  and  as  he  himself  would  die  in  his  first 
battle.  De  Precy  was  then  left  by  the  phantom ;  and  it  was  after- 
ward found  that  De  Rambouillet  had  fallen  on  that  day." 

"Ah,"  I  said,  "and  so  the  phantom  predicted  an  event 
that  followed  as  indicated." 

"Spiritual  illusions,"  explained  the  Professor,  "are  not 
unusual,  and  well-authenticated  cases  are  not  wanting  in 
which  they  have  been  induced  in  persons  of  intelligence 
by  functional  or  organic  disorders.  In  the  case  last  cited, 
the  prediction  was  followed  by  a  fulfilment,  but  this  was 
chance  or  mere  coincidence.  It  would  be  strange  indeed 
if  in  the  multitude  of  dreams  that  come  to  humanity, 
some  few  should  not  be  followed  by  events  so  similar 


2  2  Etidorhpa 

as  to  warrant  the  belief  that  they  were  prefigured.     But 
here  is  an  illustration  that  fits  your  case :  let  me  read  it : 

"In  some  instances  it  may  be  difficult  to  decide  whether  spectral 
appearances  and  spectral  noises  proceed  from  physical  derange- 
ment or  from  an  overwrought  state  of  mind.  Want  of  exercise 
and  amusement  may  also  be  a  prevailing  cause.  A  friend  mentions 
to  us  the  following  case :  An  acquaintance  of  his,  a  merchant,  in 
London,  who  had  for  years  paid  very  close  attention  to  business,  was 
one  day,  while  alone  in  his  counting  house,  very  much  surprised 
to  hear,  as  he  imagined,  persons  outside  the  door  talking  freely 
about  him.  Thinking  it  was  some  acquaintances  who  were  playing 
off  a  trick,  he  opened  the  door  to  request  them  to  come  in,  when 
to  his  amazement,  he  found  that  nobody  was  there.  He  again  sat 
down  to  his  desk,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  same  dialogue  recom- 
menced. The  language  was  very  alarming.  One  voice  seemed  to 
say :  'We  have  the  scoundrel  in  his  own  counting  house ;  let  us  go 
in  and  seize  him.'  'Certainly,'  replied  the  other  voice,  'it  is  right 
to  take  him ;  he  has  been  guilty  of  a  great  crime,  and  ought  to  be 
brought  to  condign  punishment.'  Alarmed  at  these  threats,  the 
bewildered  merchant  rushed  to  the  door ;  and  there  again  no  per- 
son was  to  be  seen.  He  now  locked  his  door  and  went  home ; 
but  the  voices,  as  he  thought,  followed  him  through  the  crowd, 
and  he  arrived  at  his  house  in  a  most  unenviable  state  of  mind. 
Inclined  to  ascribe  the  voices  to  derangement  in  mind,  he  sent  for 
a  medical  attendant,  and  told  his  case,  and  a  certain  kind  of  treat- 
ment was  prescribed.  This,  however,  failed ;  the  voices  menacing 
him  with  punishment  for  purely  imaginary  crimes  continued,  and 
he  was  reduced  to  the  brink  of  despair.  At  length  a  friend  pre- 
scribed entire  relaxation  from  business,  and  a  daily  game  of 
cricket,  which,  to  his  great  relief,  proved  an  effectual  remedy. 
The  exercise  banished  the  phantom  voices,  and  they  were  no  more 
heard." 

"So  you  think  that  I  am  in  need  of  outdoor  exercise?" 

"Exactly." 

"And  that  my  experience  was  illusory,  the  result  of 
vertigo,  or  some  temporary  calenture  of  the  brain?" 

"To  be  plain  with  you,  yes." 

"But  I  asked  you  a  while  ago  if  specters  or  phantoms 
ever  leave   tangible   evidence   of  their  presence."     The 


A  Friendly  Conference  23 

Professor's  eyes  dilated  in  interrogation.  I  continued : 
"Well,  this  one  did.  After  I  had  followed  him  out,  I 
found  on  the  table  a  long,  white  hair,  which  I  still  have," 
and  producing  the  little  coil  from  my  pocket-book,  I 
handed  it  to  him.  He  examined^  it  curiously,  eyed  me 
furtively,  and  handed  it  back  with  the  cautious  remark : 

"I  think  you  had  better  commence  your  exercise  at 
once." 


CHAPTER    IV. 

A  SECOND  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  MYSTERIOUS  VISITOR. 

It  is  not  pleasant  to  have  one's  mental  responsibility 
brought  in  question,  and  the  result  of  my  interview  with 
Professor  Chickering  was,  to  put  it  mildly,  unsatisfac- 
tory. Not  that  he  had  exactly  questioned  my  sanity,  but 
it  was  all  too  evident  that  he  was  disposed  to  accept  my 
statement  of  a  plain  matter-of-fact  occurrence  with  too 
liberal  a  modicum  of  salt.  I  say  "matter-of-fact  occur- 
rence" in  full  knowledge  of  the  truth  that  I  myself  had  at 
first  regarded  the  whole  transaction  as  a  fantasia  or  flight 
of  mind,  the  result  of  extreme  nervous  tension ;  but  in 
the  interval  succeeding  I  had  abundant  opportimity  to 
correlate  my  thoughts,  and  to  bring  some  sort  of  order 
out  of  the  mental  and  physical  chaos  of  that  strange, 
eventful  night.  True,  the  preliminary  events  leading  up 
to  it  were  extraordinary ;  the  dismal  weather,  the  depres- 
sion of  body  and  spirit  under  which  I  labored,  the  wild 
whirl  of  thought  keeping  pace  with  the  elements — in 
short,  a  general  concatenation  of  events  that  seemed  to 
be  ordered  especially  for  the  introduction  of  some  abnor- 
mal visitor — the  night  would  indeed  have  been  incom- 
plete without  a  ghost !  But  was  it  a  ghost  ?  There  was 
nothing  ghostly  about  my  visitor,  except  the  manner  of 
his  entrance  and  exit.  In  other  respects  he  seemed  sub- 
stantial enough.  He  was,  in  his  manners,  courteous  and 
polished  as  a  Chesterfield ;  learned  as  a  savant  in  his  con- 
versation ;  human  in  his  thoughtful  regard  of  my  fears 
and  misgivings ;  but  that  tremendous  forehead,  with  its 
crown  of  silver  hair,  the  long,  translucent  beard  of  pearly 
whiteness,  and  above  all  the  astounding  facility  with 
which  he  read  m.y  hidden  thoughts — these  were  not 
natural. 


A  Second  Interview  25 

The  Professor  had  been  patient  with  me — I  had  a  right 
to  expect  that ;  he  was  entertaining  to  the  extent  of  read- 
ing such  excerpts  as  he  had  with  him  on  the  subject  of 
hallucinations  and  their  supposed  causes,  but  had  he  not 
spoiled  all  by  assigning  me  at  last  to  a  place  with  the 
questionable,  unbalanced  characters  he  had  cited?  I 
thought  so,  and  the  reflection  provoked  me ;  and  this 
thought  grew  upon  me  until  I  came  to  regard  his  stories 
and  attendant  theories  as  so  much  literary  trash. 

My  own  reflections  had  been  sober  and  deliberate,  and 
had  led  me  to  seek  a  rational  explanation  of  the  unusual 
phenomena.  I  had  gone  to  Professor  Chickering  for  a 
certain  measure  of  sympathy,  and  what  was  more  to  the 
point,  to  secure  his  suggestions  and  assistance  in  the 
further  unravelling  of  a  profound  mystery  that  might 
contain  a  secret  of  untold  use  to  humanity.  Repulsed  by 
the  mode  in  which  my  confidence  had  been  received,  I 
decided  to  do  what  I  should  have  done  from  the  outset — 
to  keep  my  own  counsel  and  to  follow  alone  the  investi- 
gation to  the  end,  no  matter  what  the  result  might  be. 
I  could  not  forget  or  ignore  the  silver  hair  I  had  so  relig- 
iously preserved.  That  was  genuine ;  it  was  as  tangible, 
as  real,  as  convincing  a  witness  as  would  have  been  the 
entire  head  of  my  singular  visitant,  whatever  might  be  his 
nature. 

I  began  to  feel  at  ease  the  moment  my  course  was 
decided,  and  the  feeling  was  at  once  renewed  within  me 
that  the  gray  head  would  come  again,  and  by  degrees 
that  expectation  ripened  into  a  desire,  only  intensified  as 
the  days  sped  by.  The  weeks  passed  into  months ;  sum- 
mer came  and  went ;  autumn  was  fast  fading,  but  the 
mysterious  unknown  did  not  appear.  A  curious  fancy 
led  me  now  to  regard  him  as  my  friend,  for  the  mixed 
and  indefinite  feelings  I  felt  at  first  toward  him  had  almost 
unaccountably  been  changed  to  thoseof  sincere  regard.  He 
was  not  always  in  my  thoughts,  for  I  had  abundant  occu- 
pation at  all  times  to  keep  both  brain  and  hands  busy,  but 
there  were  few  evenings  in  which  I  did  not,  just  before 


26  Etidorhpa 

retiring,  give  myself  up  for  a  brief  period  to  quiet  com- 
munion with  my  own  thoughts,  and  I  must  confess  at 
such  times  the  unknown  occupied  the  larger  share  of  at- 
tention. The  constant  contemplation  of  any  theme  be- 
gets a  feeling  of  familiarity  or  acquaintance  with  the 
same,  and  if  that  subject  be  an  individual,  as  in  the  pres- 
ent instance,  such  contemplation  lessens  the  liability  to 
surprise  from  any  unexpected  development.  In  fact,  I 
not  only  anticipated  a  visit,  but  courted  it.  The  old 
Latin  maxim  that  I  had  played  with,  "Never  less  alone 
than  when  alone"  had  domiciled  itself  within  my  brain 
as  a  permanent  lodger — a  conviction,  a  feeling  rather 
than  a  thought  defined,  and  I  had  but  little  difficulty  in 
associating  with  his  presence  an  easy-chair  which  I  had 
come  to  place  in  a  certain  position  for  my  expected  vis- 
itor. 

Indian  summer  had  passed,  and  the  fall  was  nearly 
gone  when  for  some  inexplicable  reason  the  number  seven 
began  to  haimt  me.  What  had  I  to  do  with  seven,  or 
seven  with  me?  When  I  sat  do-vn  at  night  this  persist- 
ent number  mixed  itself  in  my  thoughts,  to  my  intense 
annoyance.  Bother  take  the  mystic  numeral !  What  was 
I  to  do  with  seven?  I  found  myself  asking  this  question 
audibly  one  evening,  when  it  suddenly  occurred  to  me 
that  I  would  look  up  the  date  of  my  friend's  visit.  I  kept 
no  journal,  but  reference  to  a  record  of  some  business 
transactions  that  I  had  associated  with  that  event  showed 
that  it  took  place  on  November  seventh.  That  settled 
the  importunate  seven !  I  should  look  for  him  on  the  first 
anniversary  of  his  visit,  which  was  the  seventh,  now  close 
at  hand.  The  instant  I  had  reached  this  conclusion  the 
number  left  me.  and  troubled  me  no  more. 

November  third  had  passed,  the  fourth,  and  the  fifth 
had  come,  when  a  stubborn,  protesting  notion  entered  my 
mind  that  I  was  yielding  to  a  superstitious  idea,  and  that 
it  was  time  to  control  my  vacillating  will.  Accordingly 
on  this  day  I  sent  word  to  a  friend  that,  if  agreeable  to 
him.  I  would  call  on  him  on  the  evening  of  the  seventh  for 


A  Second  Interview  27 

a  short  social  chat,  but  as  I  expected  to  be  engaged  until 
later  than  usual,  would  he  excuse  me  if  I  did  not  reach 
his  apartments  until  ten?  The  request  was  singular,  but 
as  I  was  now  accounted  somewhat  odd,  it  excited  no  com- 
ment, and  the  answer  was  returned,  requesting  me  to 
come.  The  seventh  of  November  came  at  last.  I  was 
nervous  during  the  day,  which  seemed  to  drag  tediously, 
and  several  times  it  was  remarked  of  me  that  I  seemed 
abstracted  and  ill  at  ease,  but  I  held  my  peace.  Night 
came  cold  and  clear,  and  the  stars  shone  brighter  than 
usual,  I  thought.  It  was  a  sharp  contrast  to  the  night  of 
a  year  ago.  I  took  an  early  supper,  for  which  I  had  no 
appetite,  after  which  I  strolled  aimlessly  about  the  streets, 
revolving  how  I  should  put  in  the  time  till  ten  o'clock, 
when  I  was  to  call  upon  my  friend.  I  decided  to  go  to 
the  theatre,  and  to  the  theatre  I  went.  The  play  was 
spectacular,  "Aladdin;  or.  The  Wonderful  Lamp."  The 
entertainment,  to  me,  was  a  flat  failure,  for  I  was  busy 
with  my  thoughts,  and  it  was  not  long  until  my  thoughts 
were  busy  with  me,  and  I  found  myself  attempting  to 
answer  a  series  of  questions  that  finally  became  embar- 
rassing. "Why  did  you  make  an  appointment  for  ten 
o'clock  instead  of  eight,  if  you  wished  to  keep  away  from 
your  apartments  ?"  I  hadn't  thought  of  that  before ;  it 
was  stupid  to  a  degree,  if  not  ill-mannered,  and  I  frankly 
admitted  as  much.  "Why  did  you  make  an  appointment 
at  all,  in  the  face  of  the  fact  that  you  not  only  expected 
a  visitor,  but  were  anxious  to  meet  him?"  This  was 
easily  answered :  because  I  did  not  wish  to  yield  to  what 
struck  me  as  superstition.  "But  do  you  expect  to  extend 
your  call  until  morning?"  Well,  no,  I  hadn't  thought 
or  arranged  to  do  so.  "Well,  then,  what  is  to  prevent 
your  expected  guest  from  awaiting  your  return?  Or, 
what  assurance  have  you  that  he  will  not  encounter  you 
in  the  street,  under  circumstances  that  will  provoke  or,  at 
the  least,  embarrass  you?"  None  whatever.  "Then  what 
have  you  gained  by  your  stupid  perversity?"  Nothing, 
beyond  the  assertion  of  my  own  individuality.    "Why  not 


28  Etidorhpa 

go  home  and  receive  your  guest  in  becoming  style?"  No  ; 
I  would  not  do  that.  I  had  started  on  this  course,  and  I 
would  persevere  in  it.  I  would  be  consistent.  And  so  I 
persisted,  at  least  until  nine  o'clock,  when  I  quit  the 
theatre  in  sullen  dejection,  and  went  home  to  make  some 
slight  preparation  tor  my  evening  call. 

With  my  latch-key  I  let  myself  into  the  front  door 
of  the  apartment  house  wherein  I  lodged,  closing  and 
locking  it  again,  walked  through  the  hall,  up  the  stair- 
case, and  paused  on  the  threshold  of  my  room,  wonder- 
ing what  I  would  find  inside.  Opening  the  door,  I  en- 
tered, leaving  it  open  behind  me  so  that  the  light  from 
the  hallway  would  shine  into  the  room,  which  was  dark, 
and  there  was  no  transom  above  the  door.  The  grate 
fire  had  caked  into  a  solid  mass  of  charred  bituminous 
coal,  which  shed  no  illumination  beyond  a  faint  red  glow 
at  the  bottom,  showing  that  it  was  barely  alive,  and  no 
more.  I  struck  a  match  on  the  underside  of  the  mantel 
shelf,  and  as  I  lit  the  gas  I  heard  the  click  of  the  door 
latch.  I  turned  instantly ;  the  door  had  been  gently  closed 
by  some  unknown  force  if  not  by  unseen  hands,  for  there 
was  no  breath  of  air  stirring.  This  preternatural  inter- 
ference was  not  pleasant,  for  I  had  hoped  in  the  event  of 
another  visit  from  my  friend,  if  friend  he  was.  that  he 
would  bring  no  uncanny  or  ghostly  manifestation  to  dis- 
turb me.  I  looked  at  the  clock ;  the  index  pointed  to  half 
past  nine.  I  glanced  about  the  room ;  it  was  orderly, 
everything  in  proper  position,  even  to  the  arm-chair  that 
I  had  been  wont  to  place  for  my  nondescript  visitor.  It 
was  time  to  be  going,  so  I  turned  to  the  dressing-case, 
brushed  my  hair,  put  on  a  clean  scarf,  and  moved  toward 
the  wash-stand,  which  stood  in  a  little  alcove  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  room.  My  self-command  well-nigh  de- 
serted me  as  I  did  so,  for  there,  in  the  arm-chair  that  a 
moment  before  was  empty,  sat  my  guest  of  a  year  ago, 
facing  me  with  placid  features !  The  room  began  to  re- 
volve, a  faint,  sick  feeling  came  over  me,  and  I  reeled 


A  Second  Interview  29 

into  the  first  convenient  chair,  and  covered  my  face  with 
my  hands.  This  depression  lasted  but  an  instant,  how- 
ever, and  as  I  recovered  self-possession,  I  felt  or 
fancied  I  felt  a  pair  of  penetrating  eyes  fixed  upon  me 
with  the  same  mild,  searching  gaze  I  remembered  so  well. 
I  ventured  to  look  up ;  sure  enough,  there  they  were,  the 
beaming  eyes,  and  there  was  he !  Rising  from  his  chair, 
he  towered  up  to  his  full  height,  smiled  pleasantly,  and 
with  a  slight  inclination  of  the  head,  murmured:  "Permit 
me  to  wish  you  good-evening;  I  am  profoundly  glad  to 
meet  you  again." 

It  was  a  full  minute  before  I  could  muster  courage  to 
answer:  "I  wish  I  could  say  as  much  for  myself." 

"And  why  should  you  not?"  he  said,  gently  and  cour- 
teously ;  "you  have  realized,  for  the  past  six  months,  that 
I  would  return ;  more  than  that — you  have  known  for 
some  time  the  very  day  and  almost  the  exact  hour  of  my 
coming,  have  even  wished  for  it,  and,  in  the  face  of  all 
this,  I  find  you  preparing  to  evade  the  requirements  of 
common  hospitality ;  are  you  doing  either  rne  or  yourself 
justice  ?" 

I  was  nettled  at  the  knowledge  he  displayed  of  my 
movements,  and  of  my  very  thoughts ;  my  old  stubborn- 
ness asserted  itself,  and  I  was  rude  enough  to  reply : 
"Perhaps  it  is  as  you  say ;  at  all  events,  I  am  obligated 
to  keep  an  engagement,  and  with  your  permission  will 
now  retire." 

It  was  curious  to  mark  the  effect  of  this  speech  upon 
the  intruder.  He  immediately  became  grave,  reached 
quietly  into  an  inner  pocket  of  his  coat,  drew  thence  the 
same  glittering,  mysterious  knife  that  had  so  terrified  and 
bewildered  me  a  year  before,  and  looking  me  steadily  in 
the  eye,  said  coldly,  yet  with  a  certain  tone  of  sadness : 
'Well,  I  will  not  grant  permission.  It  is  unpleasant  to 
resort  to  this  style  of  argument,  but  I  do  it  to  save  time 
and  controversy." 

I  stepped  back  in  terror,  and  reached  for  the  old-fash- 


30  Etidorhpa 

ioned  bell-cord,  with  the  heavy  tassel  at  the  end,  that  de- 
pended from  the  ceiling,  and  was  on  the  point  of  grasp- 
ing and  giving  it  a  vigorous  pull. 

"Not  so  fast,  if  you  please,"  he  said,  sternly,  as  he 
stepped  forward,  and  gave  the  knife  a  rapid  swish 
through  the  air  above  my  head,  causing  the  cord  to  fall 
in  a  tangle  about  my  hand,  cut  cleanly,  high  above  my 
reach ! 

I  gazed  in  dumb  stupor  at  the  rope  about  my  hand,  and 
raised  my  eyes  to  the  remnant  above.  That  was  motion- 
less ;  there  was  not  the  slightest  perceptible  vibration,  such 
as  would  naturally  be  expected.  I  turned  to  look  at  my 
guest;  he  had  resumed  his  seat,  and  had  also  regained 
his  pleasant  expression,  but  he  still  held  the  knife  in  his 
hand  with  his  arm  extended,  at  rest,  upon  the  table,  which 
stood  upon  his  right. 

"Let  us  have  an  end  to  this  folly,"  he  said ;  "think  a 
moment,  and  you  will  see  that  you  are  in  fault.  Your 
error  we  can  rectify  easily,  and  then  to  business.  Let  me 
first  show  you  the  futility  of  trying  to  escape  this  inter- 
view, and  then  we  will  proceed  to  work,  for  time  presses, 
and  there  is  much  to  do."  Having  delivered  this  remark, 
he  detached  a  single  silvery  hair  from  his  head,  blew  it 
from  his  fingers,  and  let  it  float  gently  upon  the  upturned 
edge  of  the  knife,  which  was  still  resting  on  the  table.  The 
hair  was  divided  as  readily  as  had  been  the  bell-cord.  I  was 
transfixed  with  astonishment,  for  he  had  evidently  aimed 
to  exhibit  the  quality  of  the  blade,  though  he  made  no  allu- 
sion to  the  feat,  but  smilingly  went  on  with  his  dis- 
course:  "It  is  just  a  year  ago  to-night  since  we  first  met. 
Upon  that  occasion  you  made  an  agreement  with  me  which 
you  are  in  honor  bound  to  keep,  and" — here  he  paused  as 
if  to  note  the  efifect  of  his  words  upon  me,  then  added 
significantly — "will  keep.  I  have  been  at  some  pains 
to  impress  upon  your  mind  the  fact  that  I  would  be  here 
to-night.  You  responded,  and  knew  that  I  was  coming, 
and  yet,  in  obedience  to  a  silly  whim,  deliberately  made 
a  meaningless  engagement  with  no  other  purpose  than  to 


A  Second  Interview  3 1 

violate  a  solemn  obligation.  I  now  insist  that  you  keep 
your  prior  engagement  with  me,  but  I  do  not  wish  that 
you  should  be  rude  to  your  friend,  so  you  would  better 
write  him  a  polite  note  excusing  yourself,  and  dispatch  it 
at  once." 

I  saw  that  he  was  right,  and  that  there  was  no  shadow 
of  justification  for  my  conduct,  or  at  least,  I  was  subdued 
by  his  presence,  so  I  wrote  the  note  without  delay,  and 
was  casting  about  for  some  way  to  send  it,  when  he  said : 
"Fold  it,  seal  it,  and  address  it;  you  seem  to  forget  what 
is  proper."  Mechanically  I  did  as  he  directed,  without 
thinking  what  I  was  doing,  and  handed  it  to  him.  He 
took  it  naturally,  glanced  at  the  superscription,  went  to 
the  door  which,  without  turning  the  key,  he  opened 
slightly,  and  handed  the  billet  as  if  to  some  messenger 
who  seemed  to  be  in  waiting  outside — then  closed  and 
locked  the  door.  Turning  toward  me  with  the  apparent 
object  of  seeing  if  I  was  looking,  he  deftly  drew  his  knife 
twice  across  the  front  of  the  door-knob,  making  a  deep 
cross,  and  then  deposited  the  knife  in  his  pocket,  and 
resumed  his  seat.* 

As  soon  as  he  was  comfortably  seated,  he  resumed 
the  conversation:  "Now  that  we  have  settled  the  prelim- 
inaries, let  me  ask  if  you  remember  what  I  required  of  you 
a  year  ago?"  I  thought  that  I  did.  "Please  repeat  it;  I 
wish  to  make  sure  that  you  do,  then  we  will  start  fair." 

"In  the  first  place,  you  were  to  present  me  with  a  manu- 
script"— 

"Hardly  correct,"  he  interrupted ;  "I  was  to  acquaint 
you  with  a  narrative  w^hich  is  already  in  manuscript,  ac- 
quaint you  with  it,  read  it  to  you,  if  you  preferred  not  to 
read  it  to  me" — 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  I  answered;  "that  is  correct. 
You  were  to  read  the  manuscript  to  me,  and  during  the 
reading  I  was  to  interpose  such  comments,  remarks,  or 
objections,  as  seemed  proper;  to  embody  as  interludes, 

*I  noted  afterward  that  the  door-knob,  which  was  of  solid  metal, 
was  cut  deeply,  as  though  made  of  putty. 


32  Etidorhpa 

in  the  manuscript,  or  affix  thereto,  as  my  own  interpola- 
tions, however,  and  not  as  part  of  the  original." 

"Very  good,"  he  replied,  "you  have  the  idea  exactly ; 
proceed." 

"I  agreed  that  when  the  reading  had  been  completed, 
I  would  seal  the  complete  manuscript  securely,  deposit  it 
in  some  safe  place,  there  to  remain  for  thirty  years,  when 
it  must  be  published." 

"Just  so,"  he  answered  ;  "we  understand  each  other. 
Before  we  proceed  further,  however,  can  you  think  of 
any  point  on  which  you  need  enlightenment?  If  so,  ask 
such  questions  as  you  choose,  and  I  will  answer  them." 

I  thought  for  a  moment,  but  no  query  occurred  to  me ; 
after  a  pause  he  said :  "Well,  if  you  think  of  nothing 
now,  perhaps  hereafter  questions  will  occur  to  you  which 
you  can  ask ;  but  as  it  is  late,  and  you  are  tired,  we  will 
not  commence  now.  I  shall  see  you  just  one  week  from 
to-night,  when  we  will  begin.  From  that  time  on,  we 
shall  follow  the  subject  as  rapidly  as  you  choose,  but  see 
to  it  that  you  make  no  engagements  to  interfere  with 
our  work,  for  I  shall  be  more  exacting  in  the  future."  I 
promised,  and  he  arose  to  go.  A  sudden  impulse  seized 
me.  and  I  said  :  "May  I  ask  one  question?" 

"Certainly." 

"What  shall  I  call  you?" 

"Why  call  me  aught  ?  It  is  not  necessary  in  addressing 
each  other  that  any  name  be  used." 

"But  what  are  you?"  I  persisted. 

A  pained  expression  for  an  instant  rested  upon  his  face, 
and  he  said,  sadly,  pausing  between  the  words:  "I — Am 
—The— Man— Who— Did— It." 

"Did  what?" 

"Ask  not;  the  manuscript  will  tell  you.  Be  content, 
Llewellvn,  and  remember  this,  that  I — xA.m — The — 
Man."  ' 

So  saying  he  bade  me  good-night,  opened  the  door. 
and  disappeared  down  the  broad  staircase. 

One  week  thereafter  he  appeared  promptly,  seated  him- 


A  Second  Interview  33 

self,  and  producing  a  roll  of  manuscript,  handed  it  to  me, 
saying,  "I  am  listening ;  you  may  begin  to  read." 

On  examination  I  found  each  page  to  be  somewhat 
larger  than  a  sheet  of  letter-paper,  with  the  written  mat- 
ter occupying  a  much  smaller  space,  so  as  to  leave  a 
wide  white  border.  One  hundred  pages  were  in  the 
package.  The  last  sentence  ending  abruptly  indicated 
that  my  guest  did  not  expect  to  complete  his  task  in  one 
evening,  and,  I  may  anticipate  by  saying  that  with  each 
successive  interview  he  drew  about  the  same  amount  of 
manuscript  from  his  bosom.  Upon  attempting  to  read 
the  writing  I  at  first  found  myself  puzzled  by  a  style  of 
chirography  very  peculiar  and  characteristic,  but  execra- 
bly bad.  Vainly  did  I  attempt  to  read  it ;  even  the  opening 
sentence  was  not  deciphered  without  long  inspection  and 
great  difficulty. 

The  old  man,  to  whom  I  had  promised  that  I  would 
fulfil  the  task,  observing  my  discomfiture,  relieved  me  of 
the  charge,  and  without  a  word  of  introduction,  read 
fluently  as  follows : 


'Jo>-«-«-f 


FAC-SIMILE  OF   PAGE  OF   MANUSCRIPT,   REDUCE! 


THE  MANUSCRIPT  OF  I— AM— THE— MAN. 
CHAPTER    V. 

A    SEARCH    FOR    KNOWLEDGE, THE   ALCHEMISTIC    LETTER. 

I  AM  the  man  who,  unfortunately  for  my  future  hap- 
piness, was  dissatisfied  with  such  knowledge  as  could  be 
derived  from  ordinary  books  concerning  semi-scientific 
subjects  in  which  I  had  long  been  absorbed.  I  studied 
the  current  works  of  my  day  on  philosophy  and  chemis- 
try, hoping  therein  to  find  something  tangible  regarding 
the  relationship  that  exists  between  matter  and  spirit,  but 
studied  in  vain.  Astronomy,  history,  philosophy  and 
the  mysterious,  incoherent  works  of  alchemy  and  occult- 
ism were  finally  appealed  to,  but  likewise  failed  to  satisfy 
me.  These  studies  were  pursued  in  secret,  though  I  am 
not  aware  that  any  necessity  existed  for  concealment. 
Be  that  as  it  may,  at  every  opportunity  I  covertly  ac- 
quainted myself  with  such  alchemical  lore  as  could  be 
obtained  either  by  purchase  or  by  correspondence  with 
others  whom  I  found  to  be  pursuing  investigations  in 
the  same  direction.  A  translation  of  Geber's  "De  Clari- 
tate  Alchemiae,"  by  chance  came  into  my  possession,  and 
afterwards  an  original  Latin  version  of  Bcerhaave's  "Ele- 
menta  Chemise,"  published  and  translated  in  1753  by 
Peter  Shaw.  This  magnificent  production  threw  a  flood 
of  light  upon  the  early  history  of  chemistry,  being  far 
more  elaborate  than  any  modern  work.  It  inspired  me 
with  the  deepest  regard  for  its  talented  author,  and  ulti- 
mately introduced  me  to  a  brotherhood  of  adepts,  for  in 
this  publication,  although  its  author  disclaims  occultism, 
is  to  be  found  a  talisman  that  will  enable  any  earnest 
searcher  after  light  to  become  a  member  of  the  society 
of  secret  "Chemical  Improvers  of  Natural  Philosophy," 


36  Etidorhpa 


with  which  I  affihated  as  soon  as  the  key  was  discovered. 
Then  followed  a  systematic  investigation  of  authorities 
of  the  Alchemical  School,  including  Geber,  Morienus, 
Roger  Bacon,  George  Ripley,  Raymond  Lully,  Bernard 
— Count  of  Trevise.  Isaac  Hollandus,  Arnoldus  Villano- 
vus,  Paracelsus,  and  others,  not  omitting  the  learned 
researches  of  the  distinguished  scientist,  Llewellyn. 

I  discovered  that  many  talented  men  are  still  firm  be- 
lievers in  the  lost  art  of  alchemy,  and  that  among  the  fol- 
lowers of  the  "thrice-famed  Hermes"  are  to  be  found 
statesmen,  clergymen,  lawyers,  and  scientific  men  who, 
for  various  reasons,  invariably  conceal  with  great  tact 
their  connection  with  the  fraternity  of  adepts.  Some  of 
these  men  had  written  scientific  treatises  of  a  very  difTer- 
ent  character  from  those  circulating  among  the  members 
of  our  brotherhood,  and  to  their  materialistic  readers  it 
would  seem  scarcely  possible  that  the  authors  could  be 
tainted  with  hallucinations  of  any  description,  while 
others,  conspicuous  leaders  in  the  church,  were  seemingly 
beyond  occult  temptation. 

The  larger  number,  it  was  evident,  hoped  by  studies 
of  the  works  of  the  alchemists  to  find  the  key  to  the 
alkahest  of  Van  Helmont.  that  is,  to  discover  the  Phil- 
osopher's Stone,  or  the  Elixir  of  Life,  and  from  their 
writings  it  is  plain  that  the  inner  consciousness  of 
thoughtful  and  scientific  men  rebelled  against  confine- 
ment to  the  narrow  bounds  of  materialistic  science,  with- 
in which  they  were  forced  to  appear  as  dogmatic  pessi- 
mists. To  them  scientific  orthodoxy,  acting  as  a  weight, 
prohibited  intellectual  speculation,  as  rank  heresy.  A  few 
of  my  co-laborers  were  expert  manipulators,  and  worked 
experimentally,  following  in  their  laboratories  the  sug- 
gestions of  those  gifted  students  who  had  pored  over 
precious  old  manuscripts,  and  had  attempted  to  solve  the 
enigmatical  formulas  recorded  therein,  puzzles  familiar 
to  students  of  Hermetic  lore.  It  was  thus  demonstrated 
— for  what  I  have  related  is  history — that  in  this  nine- 


A  Search  for  Knowledge  37 

teenth  century  there  exists  a  fraternity,  the  members  of 
which  are  as  earnest  in  their  behef  in  the  truth  of  Esoteric 
philosophy  as  were  the  followers  of  Hermes  himself ; 
savants  who,  in  secret,  circulate  among  themselves  a  liter- 
ature that  the  materialism  of  this  self-same  nineteenth 
century  has  relegated  to  the  deluded  and  murky  periods 
that  produced  it. 

One  day  a  postal  package  came  to  my  address,  this 
being  the  manner  in  which  some  of  our  literature  circu- 
lated, which,  on  examination,  I  found  to  be  a  letter  of  in- 
struction and  advice  from  some  unknown  member  of  our 
circle.  I  was  already  becoming  disheartened  over  the 
mental  confusion  into  which  my  studies  were  leading  me, 
and  the  contents  of  the  letter,  in  which  I  was  greatly  in- 
terested, made  a  lasting  impression  upon  me.  It  seemed 
to  have  been  circulating  a  long  time  among  our  members 
in  Europe  and  America,  for  it  bore  numerous  marginal 
notes  of  various  dates,  but  each  and  every  one  of  its 
readers  had  for  one  reason  or  another  declined  the  task 
therein  suggested.  From  the  substance  of  the  paper, 
which,  written  exquisitely,  yet  partook  of  the  ambiguous 
alchemistic  style,  it  was  evident  that  the  author  was  well 
versed  in  alchemy,  and,  in  order  that  my  position  may 
be  clearly  understood  at  this  turning-point  in  a  life  of 
remarkable  adventure,  the  letter  is  appended*  in  full : 

It  was  evident  that  the  writer  referred  to  a  secret  so- 
ciety into  which  I  could  probably  enter ;  and,  taking  the 
advice,  I  did  not  hesitate,  but  applied  at  once  for  member- 
ship. Regardless  of  consequence,  I  determined  to  follow 
the  suggestion  of  the  unknown  writer,  and  by  so  doing, 
for  I  voluntarily  accepted  their  pledges,  I  invited  my  des- 
tiny. 

My  guest  of  the  massive  forehead  paused  for  a  mo- 
ment, stroked  his  long,  white  beard,  and  then,  after  casting 
an  inquiring  glance  on  me,  asked,  "Shall  I  read  on?" 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  and  The— Man— Who— Did— It 
proceeded  as  follows : 

*  See  Chapter  XLIV. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE    WRITING   OF    MY    CONFESSION. 

Having  become  a  member  of  the  secret  society  as 
directed  by  the  writer  of  the  letter  I  have  just  read,  and 
having  obtained  the  secrets  hinted  at  in  the  mystic  direc- 
tions, my  next  desire  was  to  find  a  secluded  spot  where, 
without  interruption,  I  could  prepare  for  publication  what 
I  had  gathered  surreptitiously  in  the  lodges  of  the  frater- 
nity I  designed  to  betray.  This  I  entitled  "My  Confes- 
sion." Alas !  why  did  my  evil  genius  prompt  me  to  write 
it?  Why  did  not  some  kind  angel  withhold  my  hand 
from  the  rash  and  wicked  deed?  All  I  can  urge  in  de- 
fence or  palliation  is  that  I  was  infatuated  by  the  fatal 
words  of  the  letter,  "You  must  act  what  men  will  call 
the  traitor,  but  humanity  will  be  the  gainer." 

In  a  section  of  the  State  in  which  I  resided,  a  certain 
creek  forms  the  boundary  line  between  two  townships, 
and  also  between  two  counties.  Crossing  this  creek,  a 
much  travelled  road  stretches  east  and  west,  uniting  the 
extremes  of  the  great  State.  Two  villages  on  this  road, 
about  four  miles  apart,  situated  on  opposite  sides  of  the 
creek,  also  present  themselves  to  my  memory,  and  mid- 
way between  them,  on  the  north  side  of  the  road,  was  a 
substantial  farmhouse.  In  going  west  from  the  eastern- 
most of  these  villages,  the  traveller  begins  to  descend 
from  the  very  centre  of  the  town.  In  no  place  is  the 
grade  steep,  as  the  road  lies  between  the  spurs  of  the 
hill  abutting  upon  the  valley  that  feeds  the  creek  I  have 
mentioned.  Having  reached  the  valley,  the  road  winds 
a  short  distance  to  the  right,  then  turning  to  the  left, 
crosses  the  stream,  and  immediately  begins  to  climb  the 
western  hill ;  here  the  ascent  is  more  difficult,  for  the  road 
lies  diagonally  over  the  edge  of  the  hill.    A  mile  of  travel, 


The  Writing  of  My  Confession         39 

as  I  recall  the  scene,  sometimes  up  a  steep,  and  again 
among  rich,  level  farm  lands,  and  then  on  the  very  height, 
close  to  the  road,  within  a  few  feet  of  it,  appears  the 
square  structure  which,  at  the  time  I  mention,  was  known 
as  the  Stone  Tavern.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  road 
were  located  extensive  stables  and  a  grain  barn.  In  the 
northeast  chamber  of  that  stone  building,  during  a  sum- 
mer in  the  twenties,  I  wrote  for  publication  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  mystic  work  that  my  oath  should  have  made 
forever  a  secret,  a  sacred  trust.  I  am  the  man  who 
wantonly  committed  the  deplorable  act.  Under  the  in- 
fatuation of  that  alchemical  manuscript,  I  strove  to  show 
the  world  that  I  could  and  would  do  that  which  might 
never  benefit  me  in  the  least,  but  might  serve  humanity. 
It  was  fate.  I  was  not  a  bad  man,  neither  malignity, 
avarice,  nor  ambition  forming  a  part  of  my  nature.  I  was 
a  close  student,  of  a  rather  retiring  disposition,  a  stone- 
mason by  trade,  careless  and  indifferent  to  public  honors, 
and  so  thriftless  that  many  trifling  neighborhood  debts 
had  accumulated  ag^ainst  me. 

What  I  have  reluctantly  told,  for  I  am  forbidden  to 
give  the  names  of  the  localities,  concerns  part  of  the  rec- 
ord of  my  early  life,  and  will  introduce  the  extraordinary 
narrative  which  follows.  That  I  have  spoken  the  truth, 
and  in  no  manner  overdrawn,  will  be  silently  evidenced 
1)y  hundreds  of  brethren,  both  of  the  occult  society 
and  the  fraternal  brotherhood,  with  which  I  united,  who 
can  (if  they  will)  testify  to  the  accuracy  of  the  narrative. 
They  know  the  story  of  my  crime  and  disgrace ;  only  my- 
self and  God  know  the  full  retribution  that  followed. 


CHAPTER    VII. 


KIDNAPPED. 


The  events  just  narrated  occurred  in  the  prime  of  my 
life,  and  are  partly  matters  of  publicity.  My  attempted 
breach  of  faith  in  the  way  of  disclosing  their  secrets  was 
naturally  considered  infamous  in  the  eyes  of  my  society 
brethren,  who  endeavored  to  prevail  upon  me  to  relent  of 
my  design,  which,  after  writing  my  "Confession/'  I  made 
no  endeavor  to  conceal.  Both  their  importunities  and 
threatenings  had  generally  been  resisted,  however,  and 
with  an  obstinacy  that  cannot  be  easily  explained,  I  per- 
sisted in  my  unreasonable  design.  I  was  blessed  as  a 
husband  and  father,  but  neither  the  thought  of  home, 
wife,  nor  child  checked  me  in  my  inexplicable  course.  I 
was  certainly  irresponsible,  perhaps  a  monomaniac,  and 
yet  on  the  subject  in  which  I  was  absorbed  I  preserved 
my  mental  equipoise,  and  knowingly  followed  a  course 
that  finally  brought  me  into  the  deepest  slough  of  trouble, 
and  lost  to  me  forever  all  that  man  loves  most  dearly.  An 
overruling  spirit,  perhaps  the  shade  of  one  of  the  old 
alchemists,  possessed  me,  and  in  the  face  of  obstacles  that 
would  have  caused  most  men  to  reflect  and  retrace  their 
steps  I  madly  rushed  onward.  The  influence  that  im- 
pelled me,  whatever  it  may  have  been,  was  irresistible. 
I  apparently  acted  the  part  of  agent,  subject  to  an  ever- 
present  master  essence,  and  under  this  dominating  spirit 
or  demon  my  mind  was  powerless  in  its  subjection.  My 
soul  was  driven  imperiously  by  that  impelling  and  inde- 
scribable something,  and  was  as  passive  and  irresponsible 
as  lycopodium  that  is  borne  onward  in  a  steady  current  of 
air.  Methods  were  vainly  sought  by  those  who  loved 
me,  brethren  of  the  lodge,  and  others  who  endeavored  to 
induce  me  to  change  my  headstrong  purpose,  but  I  could 


Kidnapped  41 

neither  accept  their  counsels  nor  heed  their  forebodings. 
Summons  by  law  were  served  on  me  in  order  to  dis- 
concert me,  and  my  numerous  small  debts  became  the 
pretext  for  legal  warrants,  until  at  last  all  my  papers 
(excepting  my  "Confession"),  and  my  person  also,  were 
seized,  upon  an  execution  served  by  a  constable.  Minor 
claims  were  quickly  satisfied,  but  when  I  regained  my 
liberty  the  aggression  continued.  Even  arson  was  re- 
sorted to,  and  the  printing  office  that  held  my  manuscript 
was  fired  one  night,  that  the  obnoxious  revelation  which 
I  persisted  in  putting  into  print  might  be  destroyed. 
Finally  I  found  myself  separated  by  process  of  law  from 
home  and  friends,  an  inmate  of  a  jail.  My  opponents, 
as  I  now  came  to  consider  them,  had  confined  me  in 
prison  for  a  debt  of  only  two  dollars,  a  sufficient  amount 
at  that  time,  in  that  State,  for  my  incarceration.  Smart- 
ing under  the  humiliation,  my  spirit  became  still  more 
rebellious,  and  I  now,  perhaps  justly,  came  to  view  myself 
as  a  martyr.  It  had  been  first  asserted  that  I  had  stolen 
a  shirt,  but  I  was  not  afraid  of  any  penalty  that  could  be 
laid  on  me  for  this  trumped-up  charge,  believing  that 
the  imputation  and  the  arrest  would  be  shown  to  be  de- 
signed as  wilful  oppression.  Therefore  it  was  that,  when 
this  contemptible  arraignment  had  been  swept  aside,  and 
I  was  freed  by  a  justice  of  the  peace,  I  experienced 
more  than  a  little  surprise  at  a  rearrest,  and  at  finding 
myself  again  thrown  into  jail.  I  knew  that  it  had  been 
decreed  by  my  brethren  that  I  must  retract  and  destroy 
my  "Confession,"  and  this  fact  made  me  the  more  deter- 
mined to  prevent  its  destruction,  and  I  persisted  sullenly 
in  pursuing  my  course.  On  the  evening  of  August  12th, 
1826,  my  jailer's  wnfe  informed  me  that  the  debt  for  which 
I  had  been  incarcerated  had  been  paid  by  unknown 
"friends,"  and  that  I  could  depart ;  and  I  accepted  the 
statement  without  question.  Upon  stepping  from  the 
door  of  the  jail,  however,  my  arms  were  firmly  grasped 
by  two  persons,  one  on  each  side  of  me,  and  before  I  could 
realize  the  fact  that  I  was  being  kidnapped,  I  was  thrust 


42  Etidorhpa 

into  a  closed  coach,  which  immediately  rolled  away,  but 
not  until  I  made  an  outcry  which,  if  heard  by  any  one. 
was  unheeded. 

"For  your  own  sake  be  quiet,"  said  one  of  my  compan- 
ions in  confinement,  for  the  carriage  was  draped  to  exclude 
the  light,  and  was  as  dark  as  a  dungeon.  My  spirit  re- 
belled ;  I  felt  that  I  was  on  the  brink  of  a  remarkable, 
perhaps  perilous  experience,  and  I  indignantly  replied  by 
asking : 

"What  have, I  done  that  you  should  presume  forcibly 
to  imprison  me?    Am  I  not  a  freeman  of  America?" 

"What  have  you  done?"  he  answered.  "Have  you  not 
bound  yourself  by  a  series  of  vows  that  are  sacred  and 
should  be  inviolable,  and  have  you  not  broken  them  as 
no  other  man  has  done  before  you?  Have  you  not  be- 
trayed your  trust,  and  deserved  a  severe  judgment?  Did 
you  not  voluntarily  ask  admission  into  our  ancient 
brotherhood,  and  in  good  faith  were  you  not  initiated 
into  our  sacred  mysteries  ?  Did  you  not  obligate  yourself 
before  man,  and  on  your  sacred  honor  promise  to  pre- 
.serve  our  secrets  ?" 

"I  did,"  I  replied;  "but  previously  I  had  sworn  before 
a  higher  tribunal  to  scatter  this  precious  wisdom  to  the 
world." 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "and  you  know  full  well  the  depth  of 
the  self-sought  solemn  oath  that  you  took — more  solemn 
is  it  than  that  prescribed  by  any  open  court  on  earth." 

"This  I  do  not  deny,"  I  said,  "and  yet  I  am  glad  that  I 
accomplished  my  object,  even  though  you  have  now,  as 
is  evident,  the  power  to  pronounce  my  sentence." 

"You  should  look  for  the  death  sentence,"  was  the  re- 
ply, "but  it  has  been  ordained  instead  that  you  are  to  be 
given  a  lengthened  life.  You  should  expect  bodily  destruc- 
tion ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  you  will  pass  on  in  conscious- 
ness of  earth  and  earthly  concerns  when  we  are  gone. 
Your  name  will  be  known  to  all  lands,  and  yet  from  this 
time  you  will  be  unknown.  For  the  welfare  of  future  hu- 
manity, you  will  be  thrust  to  a  height  in  our  order  that 


Kidnapped  43 

will  annihilate  you  as  a  mortal  being,  and  yet  you  will  ex- 
ist, suspended  between  life  and  death,  and  in  that  interme- 
diate state  will  know  that  you  exist.  You  have,  as  you 
confess,  deserved  a  severe  punishment,  but  we  can  only 
punish  in  accordance  with  an  unwritten  law,  that  in- 
structs the  person  punished,  and  elevates  the  human  race 
in  consequence.  You  stand  alone  among  mortals  in  that 
you  have  openly  attempted  to  give  our  most  sacred  prop- 
erty to  those  who  have  not  earned  it,  a  property  that  did 
not  belong  to  you,  property  that  you  have  only  been  per- 
mitted to  handle,  that  has  been  handed  from  man  to  man 
from  before  the  time  of  Solomon,  and  which  belongs  to  no 
one  man,  and  will  continue  to  pass  in  this  way  from  one 
to  another,  as  a  hallowed  trust,  until  there  are  no  men,  as 
men  now  exist,  to  receive  it.  You  must  soon  go  into 
the  shadows  of  darkness,  and  there  you  will  learn  many  of 
the  mysteries  of  life,  the  undeveloped  mysteries  that  are 
withheld  from  your  fellows,  but  which  you,  who  have 
been  so  presumptuous  and  anxious  for  knowledge,  are 
destined  to  possess  and  solve.  You  will  find  secrets  that 
man,  as  man  is  now  constituted,  cannot  yet  discover,  and 
yet  which  the  future  man  must  gain  and  be  instructed  in. 
As  you  have  sowed,  so  shall  you  reap.  You  wished  to  be- 
come a  distributor  of  knowledge ;  you  shall  now  by  bodily 
trial  and  mental  suffering  obtain  unsought  knowledge 
to  distribute,  and  in  time  to  come  you  will  be  commanded 
to  make  your  discoveries  known.  As  your  pathway  is 
surely  laid  out,  so  must  you  walk.    To  rebel  is  useless." 

"Who  has  pronounced  this  sentence?"  I  asked. 

"A  judge,  neither  of  heaven  nor  of  earth." 

"You  speak  in  enigmas." 

"No;  I  speak  openly,  and  the  truth.  Our  brother- 
hood is  linked  with  the  past,  and  clasps  hands  with  the 
antediluvians ;  the  flood  scattered  the  races  of  earth,  but 
did  not  disturb  our  secrets.  The  great  love  of  wisdom 
has  from  generation  to  generation  led  selected  members 
-of  our  organization  to  depths  of  study  that  our  open 
work  does  not  touch  upon,  and  behind  our  highest  offi- 


44  Etidorhpa 

cers,  in  the  occult  shades  between  the  here  and  the  here- 
after, stand  unknown  and  unseen  agents  who  are  initiated 
into  secrets  above  and  beyond  those  known  to  the  ordi- 
nary craft.  Those  who  are  introduced  into  these  inner 
recesses  acquire  superhuman  conceptions,  and  do  not 
give  an  open  sign  of  fellowship ;  they  need  no  talisman. 
They  walk  our  streets  possessed  of  powers  unknown  to 
men,  yet  they  concern  themselves  as  mortals  in  the  affairs 
of  men,  and  even  their  brethren  of  the  initiated,  open 
order  are  unaware  of  their  exalted  condition.  The  means 
by  which  they  have  been  instructed,  their  several  indi- 
vidualities as  well,  have  been  concealed,  because  publicity 
would  destroy  their  value  and  injure  humanity's  cause." 

Silence  followed  these  vague  disclosures,  and  the  car- 
riage rolled  on.  I  was  mystified  and  alarmed,  and  yet  I 
knew  that,  whatever  might  be  the  end  of  this  nocturnal 
ride,  I  had  invited  it — yes,  deserved  it — and  I  steeled  my- 
self to  hear  the  sentence  of  my  judges,  in  whose  hands 
I  was  powerless.  The  persons  on  the  seat  opposite  me 
continued  their  conversation  in  low  tones,  audible  only 
to  themselves.  An  individual  by  my  side  neither  moved 
nor  spoke.  There  were  four  of  us  in  the  carriage,  as  I 
learned  intuitively,  although  we  were  surrounded  by  utter 
darkness.  At  length  I  addressed  the  companion  beside 
me,  for  the  silence  was  unbearable.  Friend  or  enemy 
though  he  might  be,  anything  rather  than  this  long 
silence.    "How  long  shall  we  continue  in  this  carriage?" 

He  made  no  reply. 

After  a  time  I  again  spoke. 

"Can  you  not-  tell  me,  comrade,  how  long  our  journey 
will  last  ?    When  shall  we  reach  our  destination  ?" 

Silence  only. 

Putting  out  my  hand.  I  ventured  to  touch  my  mate, 
and  found  that  he  was  tightly  strapped — bound  upright 
to  the  seat  and  the  back  of  the  carriage.  Leather  thongs 
held  him  firmly  in  position ;  and  as  I  pondered  over  the 
mystery,  I  thought  to  myself,  if  I  make  a  disturbance 
they  will  not  hesitate  to  manacle  me  as  securely.     My 


Kidnapped  45 

custodians  seemed,  however,  not  to  exercise  a  guard  over 
me,  and  yet  I  felt  that  they  were  certain  of  my  inabihty 
to  escape.  If  the  man  on  the  seat  was  a  prisoner,  why 
was  he  so  reticent?  why  did  he  not  answer  my  ques- 
tions? I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  must  be  gagged 
as  well  as  bound.  Then  I  determined  to  find  out  if  this 
were  so.  I  began  to  realize  more  forcibly  that  a  terrible 
sentence  must  have  been  meted  me,  and  I  half  hoped  that 
from  my  partner  in  captivity  I  could  get  some  informa- 
tion regarding  our  destination.  Sliding  my  hand  cau- 
tiously along  his  chest  and  under  his  chin,  I  intended  to 
remove  the  gag  from  his  mouth,  when  I  felt  my  flesh 
creep,  for  it  came  in  contact  with  the  cold,  rigid  flesh  of  a 
corpse.    The  man  was  dead  and  stifif. 

The  shock  unnerved  me.  I  had  begun  to  experience 
the  results  of  a  severe  mental  strain,  partly  induced  by  the 
recent  imprisonment  and  extended  previous  persecution, 
and  partly  by  the  mysterious  significance  of  the  language 
in  which  I  had  recently  been  addressed.  The  sentence, 
"You  will  now  go  into  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of 
Death,  and  learn  the  mysteries  of  life,"  kept  ringing 
through  my  head,  and  even  then  I  sat  beside  a  corpse. 
After  this  discovery  I  remained  for  a  time  in  a  semi- 
stupor,  in  a  state  of  profound  dejection — how  long  I 
cannot  say.  Then  I  experienced  an  inexplicable  change, 
such  as  I  imagine  comes  over  a  condemned  man  without 
hope  of  reprieve,  and  I  became  unconcerned  as  a  man 
might  who  had  accepted  his  destiny,  and  stoically  deter- 
mined to  await  it.  Perhaps  moments  passed,  it  may 
have  been  hours,  and  then  indifference  gave  place  to  re- 
viving curiosity.  I  realized  that  I  could  die  but  once,  and 
I  coolly  and  complacently  revolved  the  matter,  speculat- 
ing over  my  possible  fate.  As  I  look  back  on  the  night  in 
which  I  rode  beside  that  dead  man,  facing  the  mysterious 
agents  of  an  all-powerful  judge,  I  marvel  over  a  mental 
condition  that  permitted  me  finally  to  rest  in  peace  and 
slumber  in  unconcern.  So  I  did,  however,  and  after  a 
period,  the  length  of  which  I  am  not  able  to  estimate,  I 


46  Etidorhpa 

awoke,  and  soon  thereafter  the  carriage  stopped,  and 
our  horses  were  changed,  after  which  our  journey  was 
resumed,  to  continue  hour  after  hour,  and  at  last  I  slept 
again,  leaning  back  in  the  corner.  Suddenly  I  was  vio- 
lently shaken,  awakened  from  slumber,  and  commanded 
to  alight.  It  was  in  the  gray  of  morning,  and  before 
I  could  realize  what  was  happening  I  was  transferred 
by  my  captors  to  another  carriage,  and  the  dead  man 
also  was  rudely  hustled  along  and  thrust  beside  me,  my 
companions  speaking  to  him  as  though  he  were  alive. 
Indeed,  as  I  look  back  on  these  manoeuvres,  I  perceive 
that,  to  all  appearances,  I  was  one  of  the  abducting  party, 
and  that  our  actions  were  really  such  as  to  induce  an 
observer  to  believe  this  dead  man  to  be  an  obstinate  pris- 
oner, and  myself  one  of  his  official  guards.  The  drivers 
of  the  carriages  seemed  to  give  us  no  attention ;  they  sat 
upright  and  unconcerned,  and  certainly  neither  of  them 
interested  himself  in  our  transfer.  The  second  carriage, 
like  the  one  previously  described,  was  securely  closed,  and 
then  our  journey  was  continued.  The  darkness  was  as 
of  a  dungeon.  It  may  have  been  days,  I  could  not  tell 
anything  about  the  passage  of  time ;  on  and  on  we  rode. 
Occasionally  food  and  drink  were  handed  in,  but  my 
captors  held  to  their  course,  and  at  last  I  was  taken  from 
the  vehicle  and  transferred  to  a  block-house. 

I  had  been  carried  rapidly  and  in  secret  a  hundred  or 
more  miles,  perhaps  into  another  State,  and  probably  all 
traces  of  my  journey  were  effectually  lost  to  outsiders. 
I  was  in  the  hands  of  men  who  implicitly  obeyed  the 
orders  of  their  superiors,  masters  whom  they  had  never 
seen,  and  probably  did  not  know.  I  needed  no  reminder 
of  the  fact  that  I  had  violated  every  sacred  pledge  volun- 
tarily made  to  the  craft,  and  now  that  they  held  me 
powerless,  I  well  knew  that,  wdiatever  the  punishment 
assigned,  I  had  invited  it,  and  could  not  prevent  its  ful- 
filment. That  it  would  be  severe.  I  realized ;  that  it  would 
not  be  in  accordance  with  ordinary  human  law,  I  ac- 
cepted. Had  I  not  secretly  in  my  little  room  in  that  obscure 


Kidnapped  47 

Stone  Tavern,  engrossed  on  paper  the  mystic  sentences 
that  never  before  had  been  penned,  and  were  unknown, 
excepting  to  persons  initiated  into  our  sacred  mysteries? 
Had  I  not  previously,  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  before 
these  words  had  been  imparted  to  my  keeping,  sworn 
to  keep  them  inviolate  and  secret?  And  had  I  not  delib- 
erately broken  that  sacred  vow,  and  scattered  the  hoarded 
sentences  broadcast?  My  part  as  a  brother  in  this  fra- 
ternal organization  was  that  of  the  holder  only  of  prop- 
erty that  belonged  to  no  man,  that  had  been  handed 
from  one  to  another  through  the  ages,  sacredly  cherished, 
and  faithfully  protected  by  men  of  many  tongues,  always 
considered  a  trust,  a  charge  of  honor,  and  never  before 
betrayed.    My  crime  was  deep  and  dark.    I  shuddered. 

"Come  what  may,"  I  mused,  reflecting  over  my  per- 
fidy, "I  am  ready  for  the  penalty,  and  my  fate  is  deserved ; 
it  cannot  but  be  a  righteous  one." 

The  words  of  the  occupant  of  the  carriage  occurred  to 
me  again  and  again ;  that  one  sentence  kept  ringing  in  my 
brain ;  I  could  not  dismiss  it :  "You  have  been  tried,  con- 
victed, and  we  are  of  those  appointed  to  carry  out  the 
sentence  of  the  judges." 

The  black  silence  of  my  lonely  cell  beat  against  me ; 
I  could  feel  the  absence  of  sound,  I  could  feel  the  dismal 
weight  of  nothingness,  and  in  my  solitude  and  distraction 
I  cried  out  in  anguish  to  the  invisible  judge :  "I  am  ready 
for  my  sentence,  whether  it  be  death  or  imprisonment  for 
life ;"  and  still  the  further  words  of  the  occupant  of  the 
carriage  passed  through  my  mind :  "You  will  now  go  into 
the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  will  learn  the 
mysteries  of  Life." 

Then  I  slept,  to  awaken  and  sleep  again.  I  kept  no 
note  of  time ;  it  may  have  been  days  or  weeks,  so  far  as 
my  record  could  determine.  An  attendant  came  at  inter- 
vals to  minister  to  my  wants,  always  masked  completely, 
ever  silent. 

That  I  was  not  entirely  separated  from  mankind,  how- 
ever,  I   felt  assured,  for  occasionally   sounds  of  voices 


48  Etidorhpa 

came  to  me  from  without.  Once  I  ventured  to  shout 
aloud,  hoping  to  attract  attention ;  but  the  persons  whom 
I  felt  assured  overheard  me  paid  no  attention  to  my 
lonely  cry.  At  last  one  night  my  door  opened  abruptly, 
and  three  men  entered. 

"Do  not  fear,"  said  their  spokesman,  "we  aim  to  protect 
you ;  keep  still,  and  soon  you  will  be  a  free  man." 

I  consented  quietly  to  accompany  them,  for  to  refuse 
would  have  been  in  vain,  and  was  conducted  to  a  boat, 
which  I  found  contained  a  corpse — the  one  I  had  jour- 
neyed with,  I  suppose — and  embarking,  we  were  silently 
rowed  to  the  middle  of  the  river,  our  course  being  diag- 
onally from  the  shore,  and  there  the  dead  man  was  thrown 
overboard.    Then  our  boat  returned  to  the  desolate  bank. 

Thrusting  me  into  a  carriage,  that,  on  our  return  to 
the  river  bank,  we  found  awaiting  us,  my  captors  gave 
a  signal,  and  I  was  driven  away  in  the  darkness,  as 
silently  as  before,  and  our  journey  was  continued,  I  be- 
lieve, for  fully  two  days.  I  was  again  confined  in  another 
log  cabin,  with  but  one  door,  and  destitute  of  windows. 
My  attendants  were  masked,  they  neither  spoke  to  me  as 
they  day  after  day  supplied  my  wants,  nor  did  they  give 
me  the  least  information  on  any  subject,  until  at  last  I 
abandoned  all  hope  of  ever  regaining  my  liberty. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

A  WILD  NIGHT 1  AM  PREMATURELY  AGED. 

In  the  depths  of  night  I  was  awakened  by  a  noise  made 
by  the  opening  of  a  door,  and  one  by  one  seven  masked 
figures  silently  stalked  into  my  prison.  Each  bore  a 
lighted  torch,  and  they  passed  me  as  I  lay  on  the  floor 
in  my  clothes  (for  I  had  no  bedding),  and  ranged  them- 
selves in  a  line.  I  arose,  and  seated  myself,  as  directed 
to  do,  upon  the  only  stool  in  the  room.  Swinging  into  a 
semicircle,  the  weird  line  wound  about  me,  and  from  the 
one  seat  on  which  I  rested,  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  I 
gazed  successively  upon  seven  pairs  of  gleaming  eyes, 
each  pair  directed  at  myself ;  and  as  I  turned  from  one 
to  another,  the  black  cowl  of  each  deepened  into  dark- 
ness and  grew  more  hideous. 

"Men  or  devils,"  I  cried,  "do  your  worst !  Make  me, 
if  such  is  your  will,  as  that  sunken  corpse  beside  which 
I  was  once  seated ;  but  cease  your  persecutions.  I  have 
atoned  for  my  indiscretions  a  thousandfold,  and  this  sus- 
pense is  unbearable ;  I  demand  to  know  what  is  to  be  my 
doom,  and  I  desire  its  fulfilment." 

Then  one  stepped  forward,  facing  me  squarely — the 
others  closed  together  around  him  and  me.  Raising  his 
forefinger,  he  pointed  it  close  to  my  face,  and,  as  his  sharp 
eyes  glittered  from  behind  the  black  mask,  piercing 
through  me,  he  slowly  said :  "Why  do  you  not  say 
brothers?" 

"Horrible,"  I  rejoined ;  "stop  this  mockery.  Have  I 
not  suffered  enough  from  your  persecutions  to  make  me 
reject  that  word  as  applied  to  yourselves?  You  can  but 
murder ;  do  your  duty  to  your  unseen  masters,  and  end 
this  prolonged  torture!" 

"Brother,"  said  the  spokesman,  "you  well  know  that 


50  Etidorhpa 

the  sacred  rules  of  our  order  will  not  permit  us  to  murder 
any  human  being-.  We  exist  to  benefit  humanity,  to  lead 
the  wayward  back  across  the  burning  desert  into  the  path- 
ways of  the  righteous ;  not  to  destroy  or  persecute  a 
brother.  Ours  is  an  eleemosynary  institution,  instructing 
its  members,  helping  them  to  seek  happiness.  You  are 
now  expiating  the  crime  you  have  committed,  and  the 
good  in  your  spirit  rightfully  revolts  against  the  bad,  for 
in  divulging  to  the  world  our  mystic  signs  and  brotherly 
greetings  you  have  sinned  against  yourself  more  than 
against  others.  The  sting  of  conscience,  the  bitings  of 
remorse,  punish  you." 

"True,"  I  cried,  as  the  full  significance  of  what  he  said 
burst  upon  me,  "too  true ;  but  I  bitterly  repent  my 
treachery.  Others  can  never  know  how  my  soul  is  har- 
rowed by  the  recollection  of  the  enormity  of  that  breach 
of  confidence.  In  spite  of  my  open,  careless,  or  defiant 
bearing,  my  heart  is  humble,  and  my  spirit  cries  out  for 
mercy.  By  night  and  by  day  I  have  in  secret  cursed  my- 
self for  heeding  an  unhallowed  mandate,  and  I  have 
long  looked  forward  to  the  judgment  that  I  should  suffer 
for  my  perfidy,  for  I  have  appreciated  that  the  day  of 
reckoning  would  surely  appear.  I  do  not  rebel,  and  I  re- 
call my  wild  language ;  I  recant  my  'Confession,'  I  re- 
nounce myself!  I  say  to  you  in  all  sincerity,  brothers, 
do  your  duty,  only  I  beg  of  you  to  slay  me  at  once,  and 
end  my  suspense.     I  await  my  doom.    What  mote  it  be  ?" 

Grasping  my  hand,  the  leader  said :  "You  are  ready  as 
a  member  of  our  order:  we  can  now  judge  you  as  we  have 
been  commanded ;  had  you  persisted  in  calling  us  devils 
in  your  mistaken  frenzy,  we  should  have  been  forced 
to  reason  with  you  until  you  returned  again  to  us,  and 
became  one  of  us.  Our  judgment  is  for  you  alone ;  the 
world  must  not  now  know  its  nature,  at  least  so  far  as  we 
are  concerned.  Those  you  see  here  are  not  your  judges ; 
we  are  agents  sent  to  labor  with  you,  to  draw  you  back 
into  our  ranks,  to  bring  you  into  a  condition  that  will 
enable  you  to  carry  out  the  sentence  that  you  have  drawn 


A  Wild  Night  -51 

upon  yourself,  for  you  must  be  your  own  doomsman.  In 
the  first  place,  we  are  directed  to  gain  your  voluntary 
consent  to  leave  this  locality.  You  can  no  longer  take 
part  in  affairs  that  interested  you  before.  To  the  people 
of  this  vState,  and  to  your  home  and  kindred,  you  must 
become  a  stranger  for  all  time.    Do  you  consent  ?" 

"Yes,''  I  answered,  for  I  knew  that  I  must  acquiesce. 

"In  the  next  place  you  must  help  us  to  remove  all 
traces  of  your  identity.  You  must,  so  far  as  the  world  is 
concerned,  leave  your  body  where  you  have  apparently 
been  drowned,  for  a  world's  benefit,  a  harmless  mockery 
to  deceive  the  people,  and  also  to  make  an  example  for 
others  who  are  weak.    Are  you  readv?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  remove  your  clothing,  and  replace  it  with  this 
suit." 

I  obeyed  and  changed  my  garments,  receiving  others 
in  return.  One  of  the  party  then,  taking  from  beneath 
his  gown  a  box  containing  several  bottles  of  liquids,  pro- 
ceeded artfully  to  mix  and  compound  them,  and  then 
to  paint  my  face  with  the  combination,  which  after  being 
mixed,  formed  a  clear  solution. 

"Do  not  fear  to  wash,"  said  the  spokesman,  "the  effect 
of  this  lotion  is  permanent  enough  to  stay  until  you  are 
well  out  of  this  State." 

I  passed  my  hand  over  my  face ;  it  was  drawn  into 
wrinkles  as  a  film  of  gelatine  might  have  been  shrivelled 
under  the  influence  of  a  strong  tannin  or  astringent 
liquid ;  beneath  my  fingers  it  felt  like  the  furrowed  face  of 
a  very  old  man,  but  I  experienced  no  pain.  I  vainly  tried 
to  smooth  the  wrinkles ;  immediately  upon  removing  the 
pressure  of  my  hand  the  furrows  reappeared. 

Next,  another  applied  a  colorless  liquid  freely  to  my 
hair  and  beard ;  he  rubbed  it  well,  and  afterward  wiped  it 
dry  with  a  towel.  A  mirror  was  thrust  beneath  my  gaze. 
I  started  back ;  the  transformation  was  complete.  My  ap- 
pearance had  entirely  changed.  My  face  had  become 
aged  and  wrinkled,  my  hair  as  white  as  snow. 


52  Etidorlipa 

I  cried  aloud  in  amazement :  "Am  I  sane,  is  this  a 
dream?" 

"It  is  not  a  dream ;  but,  under  methods  that  are  in  exact 
accordance  with  natural  physiological  laws,  we  have  been 
enabled  to  transform  your  appearance  from  that  of  one  in 
the  prime  of  manhood  into  the  semblance  of  an  old  man, 
and  that,  too,  without  impairment  of  your  vitality."  An- 
other of  the  masked  men  opened  a  curious  little  casket 
that  I  perceived  was  surmounted  by  an  alembic  and  other 
alchemical  figures,  and  embossed  with  an  Oriental  de- 
sign. He  drew  from  it  a  lamp  which  he  lighted  with  a 
taper;  the  flame  that  resulted,  first  pale  blue,  then  yellow, 
next  violet,  and  finally  red,  seemed  to  become  more  weird 
and  ghastly  with  each  mutation,  as  I  gazed  spellbound 
upon  its  fantastic  changes.  Then,  after  these  transfor- 
mations, it  burned  steadily  with  the  final  strange  blood- 
red  hue,  and  he  now  held  over  the  blaze  a  tiny  cup,  which, 
in  a  few  moments,  commenced  to  sputter,  and  then 
smoked,  exhaling  a  curious,  epipolic,  semi-luminous 
vapor.    I  was  commanded  to  inhale  the  vapor. 

I  hesitated;  the  thought  rushed  upon  me,  "Now  I  am 
another  person,  so  cleverly  disguised  that  even  my  own 
friends  would  not  perhaps  know  me,  this  vapor  is  de- 
signed to  suffocate  me.  and  my  body,  if  found,  will  not 
now  be  known,  and  could  not  be  identified  when  discov- 
ered." 

"Do  not  fear,"  said  the  spokesman,  as  if  divining  my 
thought,  "there  is  no  danger,"  and  at  once  I  realized,  by 
fjuick  reasoning,  that  if  my  death  were  demanded,  my 
body  might  long  since  have  been  easily  destroyed,  and  all 
this  ceremony  would  have  been  unnecessary. 

I  hesitated  no  longer,  but  drew  into  my  lungs  the  vapor 
that  arose  from  the  mysterious  cup,  freely  expanding 
my  chest  several  times,  and  then  asked,  "Is  not  that 
enough?"  Despair  now  overcame  me.  My  voice,  no 
longer  the  full,  strong  tone  of  a  man  in  middle  life  and 
perfect  strength,  squeaked  and  quavered,  as  if  impaired 
by  palsy.    I  had  seen  my  image  in  a  mirror,  an  old  man 


A  Wild  Night  53 

with  wrinkled  face  and  white  hair ;  I  now  heard  myself 
speak  with  the  voice  of  an  octogenarian. 

"What  have  you  done?"  I  cried. 

"We  have  obeyed  your  orders ;  you  told  us  you  were 
ready  to  leave  your  own  self  here,  and  the  work  is  com- 
plete. The  man  who  entered  has  disappeared.  If  you 
should  now  stand  in  the  streets  of  your  village  home, 
and  cry  to  your  former  friends,  'It  is  I,  for  whom  you 
seek,'  they  would  smile,  and  call  you  a  madman.  Know," 
continued  the  voice,  "that  there  is  an  Eastern  metaphysi- 
cal lore,  more  true  philosophy  than  is  embodied  in  the 
sciences  of  to-day,  and  that  by  means  of  the  ramifications 
of  our  order  it  becomes  possible,  when  necessary,  for 
him  who  stands  beyond  the  inner  and  upper  Worshipful 
Master,  to  draw  these  treasures  from  the  occult  Wisdom 
possessions  of  Oriental  sages  who  forget  nothing  and  lose 
nothing.  Have  we  not  been  permitted  to  do  his  bid- 
ding well?" 

"Yes,"  I  squeaked ;  "and  I  wish  that  you  had  done  it 
better.    I  would  that  I  were  dead." 

"When  the  time  comes,  if  necessary,  your  dead  body 
will  be  fished  from  the  water,"  was  the  reply ;  "witnesses, 
have  seen  the  drowning  tragedy,  and  will  surely  identify 
the  corpse." 

"And  may  I  go  ?  am  I  free  now  ?"  I  asked. 

"Ah,"  said  he,  "that  is  not  for  us  to  say;  our  part  of 
the  work  is  fulfilled,  and  we  can  return  to  our  native 
lands,  and  resume  again  our  several  studies.  So  far  as 
we  are  concerned,  you  are  free,  but  we  have  been  directed' 
to  pass  you  over  to  the  keeping  of  others  who  will  carry 
forward  this  judgment — there  is  another  step." 

"Tell  me,"  I  cried,  once  more  desponding,  "tell  me  the 
full  extent  of  my  sentence." 

"That  is  not  known  to  us,  and  probably  is  not  known 
to  any  one  man.  So  far  as  the  members  of  our  order  are 
concerned,  you  have  now  vanished.  When  you  leave  our 
sight  this  night,  we  will  also  separate  from  one  another ; 
we  shall  know  no  more  of  you  and  your  future  than  will 


54  Etidorhpa 

those  of  our  working  order  who  Hve  in  this  section  of  the 
country.  W'e  have  no  personal  acquaintance  with  the 
guide  that  has  been  selected  to  conduct  you  farther,  and 
who  will  appear  in  due  season,  and  we  make  no  surmise 
concerning  the  result  of  your  journey,  only  do  we  know 
that  you  will  not  be  killed,  for  you  have  a  work  to  per- 
form, and  will  continue  to  exist  long  after  others  of 
your  age  are  dead.  F'arewell,  brother  ;  we  have  discharged 
our  duty,  and  that  by  your  consent,  now  we  must  return  to 
our  various  pursuits.  In  a  short  time  all  evidence  of  your 
unfortunate  mistake,  the  crime  committed  by  you  in 
printing  our  sacred  charges,  wall  have  vanished.  Even 
now,  emissaries  are  ordained  to  collect  and  destroy  the 
written  record  that  tells  of  your  weakness,  and  with  the 
destruction  of  that  testimony,  for  every  copy  will  surely 
be  annihilated,  and  with  your  disappearance  from  among 
men,  for  this  also  is  to  follow,  our  responsibility  for  you 
will  cease." 

Each  of  the  seven  men  advanced,  and  grasped  my 
hand,  giving  me  the  grip  of  brotherhood,  and  then,  with- 
out a  word,  they  severally  and  silently  departed  into  the 
outer  darkness.  As  the  last  man  disappeared,  a  figure 
entered  the  door,  clad  and  masked  exactly  like  those  who 
had  gone.  He  removed  the  long  black  gown  in  which  he 
was  enveloped,  threw  the  mask  from  his  face  and  stood 
before  me,  a  slender,  graceful,  bright-looking  young  man. 
By  the  light  of  the  candle  I  saw  him  distinctly,  and  was 
at  once  struck  by  his  amiable,  cheerful  countenance,  and 
my  heart  bounded  with  a  sudden  hope.  I  had  tem- 
porarily forgotten  the  transformation  that  had  been  made 
in  my  person,  which, altogether  painless. had  left  no  phys- 
ical sensation,  and  thought  of  myself  as  I  had  formerly 
existed  ;  my  soul  was  still  my  own,  I  imagined ;  my  blood 
seemed  unchanged,  and  must  flow  as  rapidly  as  before; 
my  strength  was  unaltered,  indeed  I  was  in  self-con- 
sciousness still  in  the  prime  of  life. 

"Excuse  me.  Father,"  said  the  stranger,  "but  my  ser- 


A  Wild  Night  S5 

vices  have  been  sought  as  a  guide  for  the  first  part  of  a 
journey  that  I  am  informed  you  intend  to  take." 

His  voice  was  mild  and  pleasant,  his  bearing  respect- 
ful, but  the  peculiar  manner  in  which  he  spoke  convinced 
me  that  he  knew  that,  as  a  guide,  he  must  conduct  me 
to  some  previously  designated  spot,  and  that  he  pur- 
posed to  do  so,  with  or  without  my  consent,  was  evident. 

"Why  do  you  call  me  Father?"  I  attempted  to  say, 
but  as  the  first  few  words  escaped  my  lips,  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  events  of  the  night  rushed  upon  me,  for  in- 
stead of  my  own,  I  recognized  the  piping  voice  of  the 
old  man  I  had  now  become,  and  my  tongue  faltered ;  the 
sentence  was  unspoken. 

"You  would  ask  me  why  I  call  you  Father,  I  perceive ; 
well,  because  I  am  directed  to  be  a  son  to  you,  to  care 
for  your  wants,  to  make  your  journey  as  easy  and  pleas- 
ant as  possible,  to  guide  you  quietly  and  carefully  to  the 
point  that  will  next  prove  of  interest  to  you." 

I  stood  before  him  a  free  man,  in  the  prime  of  life, 
full  of  energy,  and  this  stripling  alone  interposed  between 
myself  and  liberty.  Should  I  permit  the  slender  youth 
to  carry  me  away  as  a  prisoner  ?  would  it  not  be  best  to 
thrust  him  aside,  if  necessary,  crush  him  to  the  earth? 
go  forth  in  my  freedom?  Yet  I  hesitated,  for  he  might 
have  friends  outside ;  probably  he  was  not  alone. 

"There  are  no  companions  near  us,"  said  he,  reading 
my  mind,  "and,  as  I  do  not  seem  formidable,  it  is  natural 
you  should  weigh  in  your  mind  the  probabilites  of  escape ; 
but  you  cannot  evade  your  destiny,  and  you  must  not  at- 
tempt to  deny  yourself  the  pleasure  of  my  company.  You 
must  leave  this  locality,  and  leave  without  a  regret.  In 
order  that  you  may  acquiesce  willingly  I  propose  that  to- 
gether we  return  to  your  former  home,  which,  however, 
you  will  find  no  longer  to  be  a  home.  I  will  accompany 
you  as  a  companion,  as  your  son.  You  may  speak,  with 
one  exception,  to  whomsoever  you  care  to  address ;  may 
call  on  any  of  your  old  associates,  may  assert  openly  who 


56  Etidorhpa 

you  are,  or  whatever  and  whoever  you  please  to  represent 
yourself,  only  I  must  also  have  the  privilege  of  joining 
in  the  conversation." 

"Agreed,"  I  cried,  and  extended  my  hand ;  he  grasped 
it,  and  then,  by  the  light  of  the  candle,  I  saw  a  peculiar 
expression  flit  over  his  face,  as  he  added : 

"To  one  person  only,  as  I  have  said,  ana  you  have 
promised,  you  must  not  speak — your  wife." 

"I  bowed  my  head,  and  a  flood  of  sorrowful  reflections 
swept  over  me.  Of  all  the  world  the  one  whom  I  longed 
to  meet,  to  clasp  in  my  arms,  to  counsel  in  my  distress,  was 
the  wife  of  my  bosom,  and  I  begged  him  to  withdraw  his 
cruel  injunction. 

"You  should  have  thought  of  her  before ;  now  it  is 
too  late.  To  permit  you  to  meet  and  speak  with  her 
would  be  dangerous ;  she  might  pierce  your  disguise.  Of 
all  others  there  is  no  fear." 

"Must  I  go  with  you  into  an  unknown  future  without 
a  farewell  kiss  from  my  little  child  or  from  my  babe 
scarce  three  months  old?" 

"It  has  been  so  ordained." 

I  threw  myself  on  the  floor  and  moaned.  "This  is  too 
hard,  too  hard  for  human  heart  to  bear.  Life  has  no 
charm  to  a  man  thrust  from  all  he  holds  most  dear,  home, 
friends,  family." 

"The  men  who  relinquish  such  pleasures  and  such 
comforts  are  those  who  do  the  greatest  good  to  human- 
ity," said  the  youth.  "The  multitude  exist  to  propagate 
the  race,  as  animal  progenitors  of  the  multitudes  that  are 
to  follow,  and  the  exceptional  philanthropist  is  he  who 
denies  himself  material  bliss,  and  punishes  himself  in 
order  to  work  out  a  problem  such  as  it  has  been  ordained 
for  you  to  solve.  Do  not  argue  further — the  line  is 
marked,  and  you  must  walk  direct." 

Into  the  blaze  of  the  old  fireplace  of  that  log  house,  for, 
although  it  was  autumn,  the  night  was  chilly,  he  then 
cast  his  black  robe  and  false  face,  and,  as  they  turned  to 
ashes,  the  last  evidences  of  the  vivid  acts  through  which 


A  Wild  Night  57 

I  had  passed  were  destroyed.  In  utter  misery,  I  tried 
next  to  reason  that  what  I  experienced  was  all  a  halluci- 
nation. I  dozed,  and  awoke  startled,  half  conscious  only, 
as  one  in  a  nightmare ;  I  said  to  myself,  "A  dream !  a 
dream  \"  and  slept  again. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

A  LESSON  IN  MIND  STUDY. 

The  door  of  the  cabin  was  open  when  I  awoke,  the 
sun  shone  brightly,  and  my  friend,  cheerful  and  uncon- 
cerned, said :  "Father,  we  must  soon  start  on  our  jour- 
ney ;  I  have  taken  advantage  of  your  refreshing  sleep, 
and  have  engaged  breakfast  at  yonder  farmhouse;  our 
meal  awaits  us." 

I  arose,  washed  my  wrinkled  face,  combed  my  white 
hair,  and  shuddered  as  I  saw  in  a  pocket  mirror  the  re- 
flection of  my  figure,  an  aged,  apparently  decrepit  man. 

"Do  not  be  disturbed  at  your  feeble  appearance,"  said 
my  companion,  "your  infirmities  are  not  real.  Few  men 
have  ever  been  permitted  to  drink  of  the  richness  of  the 
revelations  that  await  you  ;  and  in  view  of  these  expecta- 
tions the  fact  that  you  are  prematurely  aged  in  appear- 
ance should  not  unnerve  you.  Be  of  good  heart,  and 
when  you  say  the  word  we  shall  start  on  our  journey, 
which  must  begin  as  soon  as  you  have  said  farewell  to 
former  friends  and  acquaintances." 

I  made  no  reply,  but  silently  accompanied  him,  for  my 
thoughts  were  in  the  past,  and  my  reflections  were  far 
from  pleasant. 

We  reached  the  farmhouse,  and  as  I  observed  the  care 
and  attention  extended  me  by  the  pleasant-faced  house- 
wife, I  realized  that,  in  one  respect  at  least,  old  age 
brought  its  compensation.  After  breakfast  a  man 
emerged  from  the  farmer's  barn,  driving  a  team  of  horses 
attached  to  an  open  spring-wagon,  which,  in  obedience 
to  the  request  of  my  guide,  I  entered,  accompanied  by 
my  young  friend,  who  directed  that  we  be  driven  toward 
the  village  from  which  I  had  been  abducted.  He  seemed 
to  know  my  past  life  as   I   knew   it ;  he  asked   me  to 


A  Lesson  in  Mind  Study  59 

select  those  of  my  friends  to  whom  I  first  wished 
to  bid  farewell,  even  mentioning  their  names ;  he  seemed 
all  that  a  patient,  faithful  son  could  be,  and  I  began  to 
wonder  at  his  audacity,  even  as  much  as  I  admired  his 
self-confidence. 

We  sat  together  on  the  back  seat  of  the  open  spring - 
wagon,  in  full  sight  of  passers,  no  attempt  being  made 
to  conceal  my  person.  Thus  we  travelled  for  two  days, 
and  on  our  course  we  passed  through  a  large  city  with 
which  I  was  acquainted,  a  city  that  my  abductors  had 
probably  previously  carried  me  through  and  beyond.  I 
found  that  my  "son"  possessed  fine  conversational  power, 
and  a  rich  mine  of  information,  and  that  he  became  in- 
creasingly interesting  as  he  drew  from  his  fund  of  knowl- 
edge, and  poured  into  my  listening  ears  an  entrancing 
strain  of  historical  and  metaphysical  information.  Never 
at  a  loss  for  a  word  or  an  idea,  he  appeared  to  discern 
my  cogitations,  and  as  my  mind  wandered  in  this  or  that 
direction  he  fell  into  the  channel  of  my  fancies,  and 
answered  my  unspoken  thoughts,  my  mind-questions  or 
meditations  as  pertinently  as  though  I  had  spoken  them. 

His  accomplishments,  for  the  methods  of  his  percep- 
tion were  unaccompanied  by  any  endeavor  to  draw  me 
into  word  expression,  made  me  aware  at  least,  that  in 
him  I  had  to  deal  with  a  man  unquestionably  possessed 
of  more  than  ordinary  intellect  and  education,  and  as  this 
conviction  entered  my  mind  he  changed  his  subject  and 
promptly  answered  the  silent  inquiry,  speaking  as  fol- 
lows: 

"Have  you  not  sometimes  felt  that  in  yourself  there 
may  exist  undeveloped  senses  that  await  an  awakening 
touch  to  open  to  yourself  a  new  world,  senses  that  may 
be  fully  developed,  but  which  saturate  each  other  and 
neutralize  themselves ;  quiescent,  closed  circles  which  you 
cannot  reach,  satisfied  circuits  slumbering  within  your 
body  and  which  defy  your  efiForts  to  utilize  them?  In 
your  dreams  have  you  not  seen  sights  that  words  are 
inadequate  to  describe,  that  your  faculties  cannot  retain 


6o  Etidorhpa 

in  waking  moments,  and  which  dissolve  into  intangible 
nothingness,  leaving  only  a  vague,  shadowy  outline  as  the 
mind  quickens,  or  rather  when  the  senses  that  possess 
you  in  sleep  relinquish  the  body  to  the  returning  vital 
functions  and  spirit?  This  unconscious  conception  of 
other  planes,  a  beyond  or  betwixt,  that  is  neither  mental 
nor  material,  neither  here  nor  located  elsewhere,  belongs 
to  humanity  in  general,  and  is  made  evident  from  the 
insatiable  desire  of  men  to  pry  into  phenomena  latent  or 
recondite  that  offer  no  apparent  return  to  humanity.  This 
desire  has  given  men  the  knowledge  they  now  possess  of 
the  sciences ;  sciences  yet  in  their  infancy.  Study  in  this 
direction  is  at  present  altogether  of  the  material  plane, 
but  in  time  to  come  men  will  gain  control  of  outlying 
senses  which  will  enable  them  to  step  from  the  seen  into 
the  consideration  of  matter  or  force  that  is  now  subtle  and 
evasive,  which  must  be  accomplished  by  means  of  the 
latent  faculties  that  I  have  indicated.  There  will  be  an 
unconscious  development  of  new  mind-forces  in  the  stu- 
dent of  nature  as  the  rudiments  of  these  so-called  sciences 
are  elaborated.  Step  by  step,  as  the  ages  pass,  the  facul- 
ties of  men  will,  under  progressive  series  of  evolutions, 
imperceptibly  pass  into  higher  phases  until  that  which  is 
even  now  possible  with  some  individuals  of  the  purified 
esoteric  school, but  which  would  seem  miraculous  if  prac- 
tised openly  at  this  day,  will  prove  feasible  to  humanity 
generally  and  be  found  in  exact  accord  with  natural  laws. 
The  conversational  method  of  men,  whereby  communion 
between  human  beings  is  carried  on  by  disturbing  the  air 
by  means  of  vocal  organs  so  as  to  produce  mechanical  pul- 
sations of  that  medium,  is  crude  in  the  extreme.  Mind 
craves  to  meet  mind,  but  cannot  yet  thrust  matter  aside, 
and,  in  order  to  communicate,  one  with  another,  the  im- 
pression one  mind  wishes  to  convey  to  another  must 
be  first  made  on  the  brain  matter  that  accompanies  it, 
which  in  turn  influences  the  organs  of  speech,  inducing 
a  disturbance  of  the  air  by  the  motions  of  the  vocal 
organs,  which,  by  undulations  that  reach  to  another  be- 


A  Lesson  in  Mind  Study  6 1 

ing,  act  on  his  ear,  and,  secondarily,  on  the  earthly  matter 
of  his  brain,  and  finally, by  this  roundabout  course,  impress 
the  second  being's  mind.  In  this  transmission  of  motions 
there  is  great  waste  of  energy  and  loss  of  time,  but  such 
methods  are  a  necessity  of  the  present  slow,  much-ob- 
structed method  of  communication.  There  is  in  culti- 
vated man  an  innate  craving  for  something  more  facile, 
and  often  a  partly  developed  conception,  spectral  and 
vague,  appears,  and  the  being  feels  that  there  may  be  for 
mortals  a  richer,  brighter  life,  a  higher  earthly  existence 
that  science  does  not  now  indicate.  Such  intimation  of  a 
deeper  play  of  faculties  is  now  most  vivid  with  men 
during  the  perfect  loss  of  mental  self  as  experienced  in 
dreams,  which  as  yet  man  in  the  quick  cannot  grasp,  and 
which  fade  as  he  awakes.  As  mental  sciences  are  de- 
veloped, investigators  will  find  that  the  medium  known 
as  air  is  unnecessary  as  a  means  of  conveying  mind  con- 
ceptions from  one  person  to  another ;  that  material  sounds 
and  word  pulsations  are  cumbersome ;  that  thought  force 
unexpressed  may  be  used  to  accomplish  more  than  speech 
can  do,  and  that  physical  exertions  as  exemplified  in  mo- 
tion of  matter  such  as  I  have  described  will  be  unneces- 
sary for  mental  communication.  As  door  after  door  in 
these  directions  shall  open  before  men,  mystery  after 
mystery  will  be  disclosed,  and  vanish  as  mysteries  to 
reappear  as  simple  facts.  Phenomena  that  are  impos- 
sible and  unrevealed  to  the  scientist  of  to-day  will  be 
familiar  to  the  coming  multitude,  and  at  last,  as  by  de- 
grees, clearer  knowledge  is  evolved,  the  vocal  language 
of  men  will  disappear,  and  humanity,  regardless  of 
nationality,  will,  in  silence  and  even  in  darkness,  converse 
eloquently  together  in  mind  language.  That  which  is 
now  esoteric  will  become  exoteric.  Then  mind  will  meet 
mind,  as  my  mind  now  impinges  on  your  own,  and,  in 
reply  to  your  unuttered  question  regarding  my  apparently 
unaccountable  powers  of  perception,  I  say  they  are  per- 
fectly natural,  but  while  I  can  read  your  thoughts,  be- 
cause of  the  fact  that  you  cannot  reciprocate  in  this  direc- 


62  Etidorhpa 

tion,  I  must  use  my  voice  to  impress  your  mind.  You 
will  know  more  of  this,  however,  at  a  future  day,  for  it 
has  been  ordained  that  you  are  to  be  educated  with  an 
object  that  is  now  concealed.  At  present  you  are  inter- 
ested mainly  in  the  affairs  of  life  as  you  know  them,  and 
cannot  enter  into  these  purer  spheres.  We  are,  however, 
approaching  one  of  your  former  friends,  and  it  may  be 
your  pleasure  to  ask  him  some  questions  and  to  bid  him 
farewell." 


CHAPTER   X. 

I   CANNOT  ESTABLISH    MY  IDENTITY. 

In  surprise  I  perceived  coming  toward  us  a  light  spring 
wagon,  in  which  rode  one  of  my  old  acquaintances. 
Pleasure  at  the  discovery  led  me  to  raise  my  hat,  wave  it 
around  my  head,  and  salute  him  even  at  the  considerable 
distance  that  then  separated  us.  I  was  annoyed  at  the 
look  of  curiosity  that  passed  over  his  countenance,  and 
not  until  the  two  vehicles  had  stopped  side  by  side  did  it 
occur  to  me  that  I  was  unrecognized.  I  had  been  so  en- 
grossed in  my  companion's  revelations  that  I  had  for- 
gotten my  unfortunate  physical  condition. 

I  stretched  out  my  hand,  I  leaned  over  almost  into  the 
other  vehicle,  and  earnestly  said : 

"Do  you  not  know  me?  Only  a  short  time  ago  we  sat 
and  conversed  side  by  side." 

A  look  of  bewilderment  came  over  his  features.  "I 
have  never  seen  you  that  I  can  recall,"  he  answered. 

My  spirit  sank  within  me.  Could  it  be  possible  that  I 
was  really  so  changed?  I  begged  him  to  try  and  recall 
my  former  self,  giving  my  name.  "I  am  that  person,"  I 
added ;  but  he,  with  an  expression  of  countenance  that 
told  as  plainly  as  words  could  speak  that  he  considered 
me  deranged,  touched  his  horse  and  drove  on. 

My  companion  broke  the  awkward  silence.  "Do  you 
know  that  I  perceived  between  you  two  men  an  uncon- 
scious display  of  mind-language,  especially  evident  on 
your  part?  You  wished  with  all  the  earnestness  of  your 
soul  to  bring  yourself  as  you  formerly  appeared  before 
that  man,  and  when  it  proved  impossible,  without  a  word 
from  him,  his  mind  exhibited  itself  to  your  more  earnest 
intellect,  and  you  realized  that  he  said  to  himself,  'This 
person  is  a  poor  lunatic'     He  told  you  his  thoughts  in 


64  Etidorhpa 

mind-languag"e,  as  plainly  as  words  could  have  spoken, 
because  the  intense  earnestness  on  your  part  quickened 
your  perceptive  faculties,  but  he  could  not  see  your 
mental  state,  and  the  pleading  voice  of  the  apparent 
stranger  before  him  could  not  convince  the  unconcerned 
lethargic  mind  within  him.  I  observed,  however,  in  ad- 
dition to  what  you  noticed,  that  he  is  really  looking  for 
you.  That  is  the  object  of  his  journey,  and  I  learn  that 
in  every  direction  men  are  now  spreading  the  news  that 
you  have  been  kidnapped  and  carried  from  your  jail. 
However,  we  shall  soon  be  in  the  village,  and  you  will 
then  hear  more  about  yourself." 

We  rode  in  silence  while  I  meditated  on  my  remark- 
able situation.  I  could  not  resign  myself  without  a 
struggle  to  my  approaching  fate,  and  I  felt  even  yet  a 
hope,  although  I  seemed  powerless  in  the  hands  of  des- 
tiny. Could  I  not,  by  some  method,  convince  my  friends 
of  my  identity?  I  determined,  forgetting  the  fact  that 
my  guide  was  even  then  reading  my  mind,  that  upon  the 
next  opportunity  I  would  pursue  a  different  course. 

"It  will  not  avail,"  my  companion  replied.  "You  must 
do  one  of  two  things :  you  will  voluntarily  go  with  me,  or 
you  will  involuntarily  go  to  an  insane  asylum.  Neither 
you  nor  I  could  by  any  method  convince  others  that  the 
obviously  decrepit  old  man  beside  me  was  but  yesterday 
hale,  hearty,  young  and  strong.  You  will  find  that  you 
cannot  prove  your  identity,  and  as  a  friend,  one  of  the 
great  brotherhood  to  which  you  belong,  a  craft  that 
deals  charitably  with  all  men  and  all  problems,  I  advise 
you  to  accept  the  situation  as  soon  as  possible  after  it  be- 
comes evident  to  your  mind  that  you  are  lost  to  former 
affiliations,  and  must  henceforth  be  a  stranger  to  the 
people  whom  you  know.  Take  my  advice,  and  cease  to 
regret  the  past  and  cheerfully  turn  your  thoughts  to  the 
future.  On  one  side  of  you  the  lunatic  asylum  is  open ; 
on  the  other,  a  journey  into  an  unknown  region,  beyond 
the  confines  of  any  known  country.  On  the  one  hand, 
imprisonment  and  subjection,  perhaps  abuse  and  neglect; 


I  Cannot  Establish  My  Identity         65 

on  the  other,  liberation  of  soul,  evolution  of  faculty,  and  a 
grasping  of  superior  knowledge  that  is  denied  most  men 
— ^yes,  withheld  from  all  but  a  few  persons  of  each  gen- 
eration, for  only  a  few,  unknown  to  the  millions  of  this 
world's  inhabitants,  have  passed  over  the  road  you  are 
to  travel.  Just  now  you  wished  to  meet  your  jailer  of  a 
few  hours  ago ;  it  is  a  wise  conclusion,  and  if  he  does 
not  recognize  you,  I  ask  in  sincerity,  who  will  be  likely 
to  do  so?  We  will  drive  straight  to  his  home;  but  here 
he  comes." 

Indeed,  we  were  now  in  the  village,  where  my  mis- 
erable journey  began,  and  perhaps  by  chance — it  seems 
that  it  could  not  have  been  otherwise — my  former  jailer 
actually  approached  us. 

"If  you  please,"  said  my  companion,  "I  will  assist  you 
to  alight  from  the  wagon,  and  you  may  privately  con- 
verse with  him." 

Our  wagon  stopped,  my  guide  opened  a  conversation 
with  the  jailer,  saying  that  his  friend  wished  to  speak 
with  him,  and  then  assisted  me  to  alight,  after  which  he 
retired  to  a  distance.  I  was  vexed  at  my  infirmities, 
which  embarrassed  me  most  exasperatingly,  but  which 
I  knew  were  artificial ;  my  body  appeared  unwilling  al- 
though my  spirit  was  anxious ;  but  do  what  I  could  to 
control  my  actions,  I  involuntarily  behaved  like  a  de- 
crepit old  man.  However,  my  mind  was  made  up ;  this 
attempt  to  prove  my  personality  should  be  the  last; 
failure  now  would  prove  the  turning  point,  and  I  would 
go  willingly  with  my  companion  upon  the  unknown 
journey  if  I  could  not  convince  the  jailer  of  my  identity. 

Straightening  myself  before  the  expectant  jailer,  who, 
with  a  look  of  inquisitiveness,  regarded  me  as  a  stranger, 
I  asked  if  he  knew  my  former  self,  giving  my  name. 

"That  I  do,"  he  replied,  "and  if  I  could  find  him  at  this 
moment  I  would  be  relieved  of  a  load  of  worry." 

"Would  you  surely  know  him  if  you  met  him?"  I 
asked. 

"Assuredly,"  he  replied ;  "and  if  you  bring  tidings  of 


66  Etidorhpa 

his  whereabouts,  as  your  bearing  indicates,  speak,  that  I 
may  rid  myself  of  suspicion  and  suspense." 

Calling  the  jailer  by  name,  I  asked  him  if  my  counte- 
nance did  not  remind  him  of  the  man  he  wished  to  find. 

''Not  at  all." 

"Listen,  does  not  my  voice  resemble  that  of  your 
escaped  prisoner?" 

"Not  in  the  least." 

With  a  violent  effort  I  drew  my  form  as  straight  as 
possible,  and  stood  upright  before  him,  with  every  facial 
muscle  strained  to  its  utmost,  in  a  vain  endeavor  to  bring 
my  wrinkled  countenance  to  its  former  smoothness,  and 
with  the  energy  that  a  drowning  man  might  exert  to 
grasp  a  passing  object,  I  tried  to  control  my  voice,  and 
preserve  my  identity  by  so  doing,  vehemently  imploring 
him,  begging  him  to  listen  to  my  story.  "I  am  the  man 
you  seek ;  I  am  the  prisoner  who,  a  few  days  ago,  stood 
in  the  prime  of  life  before  you.  I  have  been  spirited  away 
from  you  by  men  who  are  leagued  with  occult  forces, 
which  extend  forward  among  hidden  mysteries,  into 
forces  which  illuminate  the  present,  and  reach  backward 
into  the  past  unseen.  These  persons,  by  artful  and 
damnable  manipulations  under  the  guidance  of  a  power 
that  has  been  evolved  in  the  secrecy  of  past  ages,  and 
transmitted  only  to  a  favored  few,  have  changed  the 
strong  man  you  knew  into  the  one  apparently  feeble,  who 
now  confronts  you.  Only  a  short  period  has  passed  since 
I  was  your  unwilling  captive,  charged  with  debt,  a  trifling 
sum ;  and  then,  as  your  sullen  prisoner,  I  longed  for  free- 
dom. Now  I  plead  before  you,  with  all  my  soul,  I  beg  of 
you  to  take  me  back  to  my  cell.  Seal  your  doors,  and 
hold  me  again,  for  your  dungeon  will  now  be  to  me  a 
paradise." 

I  felt  that  I  was  becoming  frantic,  for  with  each  word 
I  realized  that  the  jailer  became  more  and  more  im- 
patient and  annoyed.  I  perceived  that  he  believed  me  to 
be  a  lunatic.  Pleadings  and  entreaties  were  of  no  avail, 
and  my  eagerness  rapidly  changed  into  despair  until  at 


I  Cannot  Establish  My  Identity         67 

last  I  cried :  "If  you  cannot  believe  my  words,  I  will 
throw  myself  on  the  mercy  of  my  young  companion.  I 
ask  you  to  consider  his  testimony,  and  if  he  says  that  I 
am  not  what  I  assert  myself  to  be,  I  will  leave  my  home 
and  country,  and  go  with  him  quietly  into  the  unknown 
future." 

He  turned  to  depart,  but  I  threw  myself  before  him, 
and  beckoned  the  young  man  who,  up  to  this  time,  had 
stood  aloof  in  respectful  silence.  He  came  forward,  and 
addressing  the  jailer,  called  him  by  name,  and  cor- 
roborated my  story.  Yes,  strange  as  it  sounded  to  me, 
he  reiterated  the  substance  of  my  narrative  as  I  had  re- 
peated it.  "Now,  you  will  believe  it,"  I  cried  in  ecstasy ; 
"now  you  need  no  longer  question  the  facts  that  I  have 
related." 

Instead,  however,  of  accepting  the  story  of  the  witness, 
the  jailer  upbraided  him. 

"This  is  a  preconcerted  arrangement  to  get  me  into 
ridicule  or  further  trouble.  You  two  have  made  up  an 
incredible  story  that  on  its  face  is  fit  only  to  be  told  to 
men  as  crazy  or  designing  as  yourselves.  This  young 
man  did  not  even  overhear  your  conversation  with  me, 
and  yet  he  repeats  his  lesson  without  a  question  from  me 
as  to  what  I  wish  to  learn  of  him." 

"He  can  see  our  minds,"  I  cried  in  despair. 

"Crazier  than  I  should  have  believed  from  your  coun- 
tenance," the  jailer  replied.  "Of  all  the  improbable 
stories  imaginable,  you  have  attempted  to  inveigle  me 
into  accepting  that  which  is  most  unreasonable.  If  you 
are  leagued  together  intent  on  some  swindling  scheme, 
I  give  you  warning  now  that  I  am  in  no  mood  for  trifling. 
Go  your  way,  and  trouble  me  no  more  with  this  foolish 
scheming,  which  villainy  or  lunacy  of  some  description 
must  underlie."    He  turned  in  anger  and  left  us. 

"It  is  as  I  predicted,"  said  my  companion ;  "you  are  lost 
to  man.  Those  who  know  you  best  will  turn  from  you 
soonest.  I  might  become  as  wild  as  you  are,  in  your  in- 
terest, and  only  serve  to  make  your  story  appear  more 


68  Etidorhpa 

extravagant.  In  human  affairs  men  judge  and  act  ac- 
cording to  the  Hmited  knowledge  at  command  of  the 
mukitude.  Witnesses  who  tell  the  truth  are  often,  in  our 
courts  of  law,  stunned,  as  you  have  been,  by  the  decisions 
of  a  narrow-minded  jury.  Men  sit  on  juries  with  little 
conception  of  the  facts  of  the  case  that  is  brought  before 
them ;  the  men  who  manipulate  them  are  mere  tools  in 
unseen  hands  that  throw  their  several  minds  in  antag- 
onisms unexplainable  to  man.  The  judge  is  uncon- 
sciously often  a  tool  of  his  own  errors  or  those  of  others. 
One  learned  judge  unties  what  another  has  fastened,  each 
basing  his  views  on  the  same  testimony,  each  rendering 
his  decision  in  accordance  with  law  derived  from  the 
same  authority.  Your  case  is  that  condition  of  mind  that 
men  call  lunacy.  You  can  see  much  that  is  hidden  from 
others  because  you  have  become  acquainted  with  facts 
that  their  narrow  education  forbids  them  to  accept,  but, 
because  the  majority  is  against  you,  they  consider  you 
mentally  unbalanced.  The  philosophy  of  men  does  not 
yet  comprehend  the  conditions  that  have  operated  on  your 
person,  and  as  you  stand  alone,  although  in  the  right,  all 
men  will  oppose  you,  and  you  must  submit  to  the  views 
of  a  misguided  majority.  In  the  eyes  of  a  present  gen- 
eration you  are  crazy.  A  jury  of  your  former  peers  could 
not  do  else  than  so  adjudge  you,  for  you  are  not  on  the 
same  mental  plane,  and  I  ask,  will  you  again  attempt  to 
accomplish  that  which  is  as  impossible  as  it  would  be  for 
you  to  drink  the  waters  of  Seneca  Lake  at  one  draught? 
Go  to  those  men  and  propose  to  drain  that  lake  at  one 
gulp,  and  you  will  be  listened  to  as  seriously  as  when 
you  beg  your  former  comrades  to  believe  that  you  are  an- 
other person  than  what  you  seem.  Only  lengthened  life 
is  credited  with  the  production  of  physical  changes  that 
under  favorable  conditions  are  possible  of  accomplish- 
ment in  a  brief  period,  and  such  testimony  as  you  could 
bring,  in  the  present  state  of  human  knowledge,  would 
only  add  to  the  proof  of  your  lunacy." 

"I  see,  I  see,"  I  said ;  "and  I  submit.     Lead  on,  I  am 


I  Cannot  Establish  My  Identity         69 

ready.  Whatever  my  destined  career  may  be,  wherever 
it  may  be,  it  can  only  lead  to  the  grave." 

"Do  not  be  so  sure  of  that,"  was  the  reply. 

I  shuddered  instinctively,  for  this  answer  seemed  to 
imply  that  the  stillness  of  the  grave  would  be  preferable 
to  my  destiny. 

We  got  into  the  wagon  again,  and  a  deep  silence  fol- 
lowed as  we  rode  along,  gazing  abstractedly  on  the  quiet 
fields  and  lonely  farmhouses.  Finally  we  reached  a  little 
village.  Here  my  companion  dismissed  the  farmer,  our 
driver,  paying  him  liberally,  and  secured  lodgings  in  a 
private  family  (I  believe  we  were  expected),  and  after 
a  hearty  supper  we  retired.  From  the  time  we  left  the 
jailer  I  never  again  attempted  to  reveal  my  identity.  I 
had  lost  my  interest  in  the  past,  and  found  myself  crav- 
ing to  know  what  the  future  had  in  store  for  me. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

MY   JOURNEY   TOWARD   THE   END   OF   EARTH    BEGINS. — THE 
adepts'  BROTHERHOOD. 

My  companion  did  not  attempt  to  watch  over  my 
motions  or  in  any  way  to  interfere  with  my  freedom. 

"I  shall  for  a  time  necessarily  be  absent,"  he  said,  "ar- 
ranging for  our  journey,  and  while  I  am  getting  ready 
you  must  employ  yourself  as  best  you  can.  I  ask  you, 
however,  now  to  swear  that,  as  you  have  promised,  you 
will  not  seek  your  wife  and  children." 

To  this  I  agreed. 

"Hold  up  your  hand,"  he  said,  and  I  repeated  after 
him :  "All  this  I  most  solemnly  and  sincerely  promise  and 
swear,  with  a  firm  and  steadfast  resolution  to  keep  and 
perform  my  oath,  without  the  least  equivocation,  mental 
reservation  or  self-evasion  whatever." 

"That  will  answer;  see  that  you  keep  your  oath  thfs 
time,"  he  said,  and  then  departed.  Several  days  were 
consumed  before  he  returned,  and  during  that  time  I  was 
an  inquisitive  and  silent  listener  to  the  various  conjec- 
tures others  were  making  regarding  my  abduction,  which 
event  was  becoming  of  general  interest.  Some  of  the 
theories  advanced  were  quite  near  the  truth,  others  wild 
and  erratic.  It  seemed  to  me  preposterous  that  the  actor 
himself  could  be  in  the  very  seat  of  the  disturbance,  will- 
ing, anxious  to  testify,  ready  to  prove  the  truth  concern- 
ing his  position,  and  yet  unable  even  to  obtain  a  respectful 
hearing  from  those  most  interested  in  his  recovery.  Men 
gathered  together  discussing  the  "outrage ;"  women, 
children,  even,  talked  of  little  else,  and  it  was  evident 
that  the  entire  country  was  aroused.  New  political 
issues  took  their  rise  from  the  event,  but  the  man  who 


My  Journey  Begins  71 

was  the  prime  cause  of  the  excitement  was  for  a  period  a 
willing  and  unwilling  listener,  as  he  had  been  a  willing 
and  unwilling  actor  in  the  tragedy. 

One  morning  my  companion  drove  up  in  a  light  car- 
riage, drawn  by  a  span  of  fine,  spirited,  black  horses. 

"We  are  now  ready,"  he  said,  and  my  unprecedented 
journey  began. 

Wherever  we  stopped,!  heard  my  name  mentioned.  Men 
combined  against  men,  brother  was  declaiming  against 
brother,  neighbor  was  against  neighbor,  everywhere 
suspicion  was  in  the  air. 

"The  passage  of  time  alone  can  quiet  these  people," 
said  I. 

"The  usual  conception  of  the  term  Time — an  indescrib- 
able something  flowing  at  a  constant  rate — is  erroneous," 
replied  my  comrade.  "Time  is  humanity's  best  friend, 
and  should  be  pictured  as  a  ministering  angel,  instead  of 
a  skeleton  with  hour-glass  and  scythe.  Time  does  not 
fly,  but  is  permanent  and  quiescent,  while  restless,  force- 
impelled  matter  rushes  onward.  Force  and  matter  fly; 
Time  reposes.  At  our  birth  we  are  wound  up  like  a  ma- 
chine, to  move  for  a  certain  number  of  years,  grating 
against  Time.  We  grind  against  that  complacent  spirit, 
and  wear  not  Time,  but  ourselves  away.  We  hold  within 
ourselves  a  certain  amount  of  energy,  which,  an 
evanescent  form  of  matter,  is  the  opponent  of  Time. 
Time  has  no  existence  with  inanimate  objects.  It  is  a 
conception  of  the  human  intellect.  Time  is  rest,  perfect 
rest,  tranquillity  such  as  man  never  realizes  unless  he 
becomes  a  part  of  the  sweet  silences  toward  which  human 
life  and  human  mind  are  drifting.  So  much  for  Time. 
Now  for  Life.  Disturbed  energy  in  one  of  its  forms,  we 
call  Life ;  and  this  Life  is  the  great  enemy  of  peace,  the 
opponent  of  steadfast  perfection.  Pure  energy,  the  soul 
of  the  universe,  permeates  all  things  with  which  man  is 
now  acquainted,  but  when  at  rest  is  imperceptible  to  man, 
while  disturbed  energy,  according  to  its  condition,  is  ap- 
parent  either  as   matter  or  as   force.    A  substance  or 


72  Etidorhpa 

material  body  is  a  manifestation  resulting  from  a  disturb- 
ance of  energy.  The  agitating  cause  removed,  the  mani- 
festations disappear,  and  thus  a  universe  may  be  ex- 
tinguished, without  unbalancing  the  cosmos  that  remains. 
The  worlds  known  to  man  are  conditions  of  abnormal 
energy  moving  on  separate  planes  through  what  men  call 
space.  They  attract  to  themselves  bodies  of  similar  de- 
scription, and  thus  influence  one  another — they  have  each 
a  separate  existence,  and  are  swayed  to  and  fro  under  the 
influence  of  the  various  disturbances  in  energy  common 
to  their  rank  or  order,  which  we  call  forms  of  forces. 
Unsettled  energy  also  assumes  numerous  other  ex- 
pressions that  are  unknown  to  man,  but  which  in  all  per- 
ceptible forms  is  characterized  by  motion.  Pure  energy 
cannot  be  appreciated  by  the  minds  of  mortals.  There 
are  invisible  worlds  beside  those  perceived  by  us  in  our 
planetary  system,  unreachable  centres  of  ethereal  struc- 
ture about  us  that  stand  in  a  higher  plane  of  develop- 
ment than  earthly  matter  which  is  a  gross  form  of  dis- 
turbed energy.  There  are  also  lower  planes.  Man's 
acquaintance  with  the  forms  of  energy  is  the  result  of  his 
power  of  perceiving  the  forms  of  matter  of  which  he  is 
a  part.  Heat,  light,  gravitation,  electricity  and  magnet- 
ism are  ever  present  in  all  perceivable  substances,  and, 
although  purer  than  earth,  they  are  still  manifestations  of 
absolute  energ}',  and  for  this  reason  are  sensible  to  men, 
but  more  evanescent  than  material  bodies.  Perhaps  you 
can  conceive  that  if  these  disturbances  could  be  removed, 
matter  or  force  would  be  resolved  back  into  pure  energy, 
and  would  vanish.  Such  a  dissociation  is  an  ethereal 
existence,  and  as  pure  energy  the  life  spirit  of  all  material 
things  is  neither  cold  nor  hot,  heavy  nor  light,  solid,  liquid 
nor  gaseous — men  cannot,  as  mortals  now  exist,  see,  feel, 
smell,  taste,  or  even  conceive  of  it.  It  moves  through 
space  as  we  do  through  it,  a  world  of  itself  as  transparent 
to  matter  as  matter  is  to  it,  insensible  but  ever  present,  a 
reality  to  higher  existences  that  rest  in  other  planes,  but 
not  to  us  an  essence  subject  to  scientific  test,  nor  an  en- 


My  Journey  Begins  73 

tity.  Of  these  problems  and  their  connection  with  others 
in  the  unseen  depths  beyond,  you  are  not  yet  in  a  position 
properly  to  judge,  but  before  many  years  a  new  sense  will 
be  given  you  or  a  development  of  latent  senses  by  the 
removal  of  those  more  gross,  and  a  partial  insight  into  an 
unsuspected  unseen,  into  a  realm  to  you  at  present  un- 
known. 

"It  has  been  ordained  that  a  select  few  from  time  to 
time  must  pass  over  the  threshold  that  divides  a  mortal's 
present  life  from  the  future,  and  your  lot  has  been  cast 
among  the  favored  ones.  It  is  or  should  be  deemed  a 
privilege  to  be  permitted  to  pass  farther  than  human 
philosophy  has  yet  gone,  into  an  investigation  of  the 
problems  of  life ;  this  I  say  to  encourage  you.  We  have 
in  our  order  a  handful  of  persons  who  have  received  the 
accumulated  fruits  of  the  close  attention  others  have 
given  to  these  subjects  which  have  been  handed  to  them 
by  the  generations  of  men  who  have  preceded.  You  are 
destined  to  become  as  they  are.  This  study  of  semi-oc- 
cult forces  has  enabled  those  selected  for  the  work  to 
master  some  of  the  concealed  truths  of  being,  and  by  the 
partial  development  of  a  new  sense  or  new  senses,  partly 
to  triumph  over  death.  These  facts  are  hidden  from 
ordinary  man,  and  from  the  earth-bound  workers  of  our 
brotherhood,  who  cannot  even  interpret  the  words  they 
learn.  The  methods  by  which  they  are  elucidated  have 
been  locked  from  man  because  the  world  is  not  prepared 
to  receive  them,  selfishness  being  the  ruling  passion  of 
debased  mankind,  and  publicity,  until  the  chain  of  evi- 
dence is  more  complete,  would  embarrass  their  further 
evolutions,  for  man  as  yet  lives  on  the  selfish  plane." 

"Do  you  mean  that,  among  men,  there  are  a  few  per- 
sons possessed  of  powers  such  as  you  have  mentioned?" 

"Yes ;  they  move  here  and  there  through  all  orders  of 
society,  and  their  attainments  are  unknown,  except  to  one 
another,  or,  at  most,  to  but  few  persons.  These  adepts 
are  scientific  men,  and  may  not  even  be  recognized  as 
members  of  our  organization;  indeed  it  is  often  necessary. 


74  Etidorhpa 

for  obvious  reasons,  that  they  should  not  be  known  as 
such.  These  studies  must  constantly  be  prosecuted  in 
various  directions,  and  some  monitors  must  teach  others 
to  perform  certain  duties  that  are  necessary  to  the  grand 
evolution.  Hence,  when  a  man  has  become  one  of  our 
brotherhood,  from  the  promptings  that  made  you  one  of 
us,  and  has  been  as  ready  and  determined  to  instruct  out- 
siders in  our  work  as  you  have  been,  it  is  proper  that  he 
should  in  turn  be  compelled  to  serve  our  people,  and 
eventually,  mankind." 

"Am  I  to  infer  from  this,"  I  exclaimed,  a  sudden  light 
breaking  upon  me,  "that  the  alchemistic  manuscript  that 
led  me  to  the  fraternity  to  which  you  are  related  may  have 
been  artfully  designed  to  serve  the  interest  of  that  organ- 
ization?" To  this  question  I  received  no  reply.  After 
an  interval,  I  again  sought  information  concerning  the 
order,  and  with  more  success. 

"I  understand  that  you  propose  that  I  shall  go  on  a 
journey  of  investigation  for  the  good  of  our  order  and 
also  of  humanity." 

"True ;  it  is  necessary  that  our  discoveries  be  kept  alive, 
and  it  is  essential  that  the  men  who  do  this  work  accept 
the  trust  of  their  own  accord.  He  who  will  not  consent 
to  add  to  the  common  stock  of  knowledge  and  under- 
standing must  be  deemed  a  drone  in  the  hive  of  Nature 
— but  few  persons,  however,  are  called  upon  to  serve  as 
you  must  serve.  Men  are  scattered  over  the  world  with 
this  object  in  view,  and  unknown  to  their  families  or 
even  to  other  members  of  the  order  hold  in  solemn  trust 
our  sacred  revelations,  and  impart  them  to  others  as  is 
ordained,  and  thus  nothing  perishes ;  eventually  humanity 
will  profit. 

"Others,  as  you  soon  will  be  doing,  are  now  exploring 
assigned  sections  of  this  illimitable  field,  accumulating 
further  knowledge,  and  they  will  report  results  to  those 
whose  duty  it  is  to  retain  and  formulate  the  collected  sum 
of  facts  and  principles.  So  it  is  that,  unknown  to  the 
great  body  of  our  brotherhood,  a  chosen  number,  under 


My  Journey  Begins  y^ 

our  esoteric  teachings,  are  gradually  passing  the  divid- 
ing line  that  separates  life  from  death,  matter  from  spirit, 
for  we  have  members  who  have  mastered  these  problems. 
We  ask,  however,  no  aid  of  evil  forces  or  of  necromancy 
or  black  art,  and  your  study  of  alchemy  was  of  no  avail, 
although  to  save  the  vital  truths  alchemy  is  a  part  of  our 
work.  We  proceed  in  exact  accordance  with  natural 
laws,  which  will  yet  be  known  to  all  men.  Sorrow,  suf- 
fering, pain  of  all  descriptions,  are  enemies  to  the  mem- 
bers of  our  order,  as  they  are  to  mankind  broadly,  and  we 
hope  in  the  future  so  to  control  the  now  hidden  secrets  of 
Nature  as  to  be  able  to  govern  the  antagonistic  disturb- 
ances in  energy  with  which  man  now  is  everywhere 
thwarted,  to  subdue  the  physical  enemies  of  the  race,  to 
affiliate  religious  and  scientific  thought,  cultivating 
brotherly  love,  the  foundation  and  capstone,  the  cement 
and  union  of  this  ancient  fraternity." 

"And  am  I  really  to  take  an  important  part  in  this 
scheme  ?  Have  I  been  set  apart  to  explore  a  section  of  the 
unknown  for  a  bit  of  hidden  knowledge,  and  to  return 
again  ?" 

"This  I  may  say,"  he  answered,  evading  a  direct  reply, 
"you  have  been  selected  for  a  part  that  one  in  a  thousand 
has  been  required  to  undertake.  You  are  to  pass  into  a 
field  that  will  carry  you  beyond  the  present  limits  of 
human  observation.  This  much  I  have  been  instructed  to 
impart  to  you  in  order  to  nerve  you  for  your  duty.  I 
seem  to  be  a  young  man ;  really  I  am  aged.  You  seem 
to  be  infirm  and  old,  but  you  are  young.  Many  years  ago, 
cycles  ago  as  men  record  time,  I  was  promoted  to  do  a 
certain  work  because  of  my  zealous  nature ;  like  you,  I 
also  had  to  do  penance  for  an  error.  I  disappeared,  as 
you  are  destined  to  do,  from  the  sight  of  men.  I  regained 
my  youth ;  yours  has  been  lost  forever,  but  you  will  re- 
gain more  than  your  former  strength.  We  shall  both 
exist  after  this  generation  of  men  has  passed  away,  and 
shall  mingle  with  generations  yet  to  be  born,  for  we  shall 
learn  how  to  restore  our  youthful  vigor,  and  will  supply 


76  Etidorhpa 

it  time  and  again  to  earthy  matter.  Rest  assured  also  that 
the  object  of  our  labors  is  of  the  most  laudable  nature, 
and  we  must  be  upheld  under  all  difficulties  by  the  fact 
that  multitudes  of  men  who  are  yet  to  come  will  be  bene- 
fited thereby." 


CHAPTER   XII. 

MY    JOURNEY    CONTINUES. — INSTINCT. 

It  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  give  the  details  of  the  first 
part  of  my  long  journey.  My  companion  was  guided  by 
a  perceptive  faculty  that,  like  the  compass,  enabled  him 
to  keep  in  the  proper  course.  He  did  not  question  those 
whom  we  met,  and  made  no  endeavor  to  maintain  a  given 
direction ;  and  yet  he  was  travelling  in  a  part  of  the  coun- 
try that  was  new  to  himself.  I  marvelled  at  the  accuracy 
of  his  intuitive  perception,  for  he  seemed  never  to  be  at 
fault.  When  the  road  forked,  he  turned  to  the  right  or 
the  left  in  a  perfectly  careless  manner,  but  the  continuity 
of  his  course  was  never  interrupted.  I  began  mentally 
to  question  whether  he  could  be  guiding  us  aright,  for- 
getting that  he  was  reading  my  thoughts,  and  he 
answered :  "There  is  nothing  strange  in  this  self-directive 
faculty.  Is  not  man  capable  of  following  where  animals 
lead?  One  of  the  objects  of  my  special  study  has  been 
to  ascertain  the  nature  of  the  instinct-power  of  animals, 
the  sagacity  of  brutes.  The  carrier  pigeon  will  fly  to  its 
cote  across  hundreds  of  miles  of  strange  country.  The 
young  pig  will  often  return  to  its  pen  by  a  route  unknown 
to  it;  the  sluggish  tortoise  will  find  its  home  without  a 
guide,  without  seeing  a  familiar  object;  cats,  horses  and 
other  animals  possess  this  power,  which  is  not  an  unex- 
plainable  instinct,  but  a  natural  sense  better  developed 
in  some  of  the  lower  creatures  than  it  is  in  man.  The 
power  lies  dormant  in  man,  but  exists,  nevertheless.  If 
we  develop  one  faculty  we  lose  acuteness  in  some  other 
power.  Men  have  lost  in  mental  development  in  this  par- 
ticular direction  while  seeking  to  gain  in  others.  If  there 
were  no  record  of  the  fact  that  light  brings  objects  to  the 


yS  Etidorhpa 

recognition  of  the  mind  through  the  agency  of  the  eye, 
the  sense  of  sight  in  an  animal  would  be  considered  by 
men  devoid  of  it  as  adaptability  to  extraordinary  circum- 
stances, or  instinct.  So  it  is  that  animals  often  see  clearly 
where  to  the  sense  of  man  there  is  only  darkness ;  such 
sight  is  not  irresponsive  action  without  consciousness  of  a 
purpose.  Man  is  not  very  magnanimous.  Instead  of  giv- 
ing credit  to  the  lower  animals  for  superior  perception  in 
many  directions,  he  denies  to  them  the  conscious 
possession  of  powers  imperfectly  developed  in  mankind. 
We  egotistically  aim  to  raise  ourselves,  and  do  so  in  our 
own  estimation  by  clothing  the  actions  of  the  lower 
animals  in  a  garment  of  irresponsibility.  Because  we  can- 
not understand  the  inwardness  of  their  power,  we  assert 
that  they  act  by  the  influence  of  instinct.  The  term  in- 
stinct, as  I  would  define  it,  is  an  expression  applied  by 
men  to  a  series  of  senses  which  man  possesses,  but  has  not 
developed.  The  word  is  used  by  man  to  characterize  the 
mental  superiority  of  other  animals  in  certain  directions 
where  his  own  senses  are  defective.  Instead  of  crediting 
animals  with  these,  to  them,  invaluable  faculties,  man 
conceitedly  says  they  are  involuntary  actions.  Ignorant 
of  their  mental  status,  man  is  too  arrogant  to  admit  that 
lower  animals  are  superior  to  him  in  any  way.  But  we 
are  not  consistent.  Is  it  not  true  that  in  the  direction  in 
which  you  question  my  power,  some  men  by  cultivation 
often  become  expert  beyond  their  fellows  ?  and  such  men 
have  also  given  very  little  systematic  study  to  subjects 
connected  with  these  undeniable  mental  qualities.  The 
hunter  will  hold  his  course  in  utter  darkness,  passing  in- 
equalities in  the  ground,  and  avoiding  obstructions  he 
cannot  see.  The  fact  of  his  superiority  in  this  way  over 
others  is  not  questioned,  although  he  cannot  explain  his 
methods  nor  understand  how  he  operates.  His  quickened 
sense  is  often  as  much  entitled  to  be  called  instinct  as  is 
the  divining  power  of  the  carrier  pigeon.  If  scholars 
would  cease  to  devote  their  entire  energies  to  the  develop- 


My  Journey  Continues  79 

ment  of  the  material,  artistic,  or  scientific  part  of  modern 
civilization,  and  turn  their  attention  to  other  forms  of 
mental  culture,  many  beauties  and  powers  of  Nature  now 
unknown  would  be  revealed.  However,  this  cannot  be, 
for  under  existing  conditions  the  strife  for  food  and 
warmth  is  the  most  important  struggle  that  engages  man- 
kind and  controls  our  actions.  In  a  time  that  is  surely  to 
come,  however,  when  the  knowledge  of  all  men  is  united 
into  a  comprehensive  whole,  the  book  of  life,  illuminated 
thereby,  will  contain  many  beautiful  pages  that  may  be 
easily  read,  but  which  are  now  not  suspected  to  exist. 
The  power  of  the  magnet  is  not  uniform — engineers  know 
that  the  needle  of  the  compass  inexplicably  deviates  from 
time  to  time  as  a  line  is  run  over  the  earth's  surface,  but 
they  also  know  that  aberrations  of  the  needle  finally  cor- 
rect themselves.  The  temporary  variations  of  a  few  de- 
grees that  occur  in  the  running  of  a  compass  line  are 
usually  overcome  after  a  time,  and  without  a  change  of 
course  the  disturbed  needle  swerves  back,  and  again 
points  to  the  calculated  direction,  as  is  shown  by  the 
vernier.  Should  I  err  in  my  course,  it  would  be  by  a 
trifle  only,  and  we  could  not  go  far  astray  before  I  would 
unconsciously  discover  the  true  path.  I  carry  my  magnet 
in  my  mind." 

Many  such  dissertations  or  explanations  concerning  re- 
lated questions  were  subsequently  made  in  what  I  then 
considered  a  very  impressive,  though  always  unsatisfac- 
tory, manner.  I  recall  those  episodes  now,  after  other 
more  remarkable  experiences  which  are  yet  to  be  related, 
and  record  them  briefly  with  little  wonderment,  because 
I  have  gone  through  adventures  which  demonstrate  that 
there  is  nothing  improbable  in  the  statements,  and  I  shall 
therefore  not  consume  time  with  further  details  of  this 
part  of  my  journey. 

We  leisurely  traversed  State  after  State,  crossed  rivers, 
mountains  and  seemingly  interminable  forests.  The  ul- 
timate object  of  our  travels,  a  location  in  Kentucky,  I 


8o  Etidorhpa 

afterward  learned,  led  my  companion  to  guide  me  by  a 
roundabout  course  to  Wheeling,  Virginia,  by  the  usual 
mountain  roads  of  that  day,  instead  of  going,  as  he  might 
perhaps  have  much  more  easily  done,  via  Buffalo  and  the 
Lake  Shore  to  Northern  Ohio,  and  then  southerly  across 
the  country.  He  said  in  explanation,  that  the  time  lost 
at  the  beginning  of  our  journey  by  this  route  was  more 
than  recompensed  by  the  ease  of  the  subsequent  Ohio 
River  trip.  Upon  reaching  Wheeling,  he  disposed  of  the 
team,  and  we  embarked  on  a  keel  boat,  and  journeyed 
down  the  Ohio  to  Cincinnati.  The  river  was  falling  when 
we  started,  and  became  very  low  before  Cincinnati  was 
reached,  too  low  for  steamers,  and  our  trip  in  that  flat- 
bottomed  boat,  on  the  sluggish  current  of  the  tortuous 
stream,  proved  tedious  and  slow.  Arriving  at  Cincinnati, 
my  guide  decided  to  wait  for  a  rise  in  the  river,  design- 
ing then  to  complete  our  journey  on  a  steamboat.  I  spent 
several  days  in  Cincinnati  quite  pleasantly,  expecting  to 
continue  our  course  on  the  steamer  "Tecumseh,"  then  in 
port,  and  ready  for  departure.  At  the  last  moment  my 
guide  decided  otherwise,  and  instead  of  embarking  on 
that  boat,  we  took  passage  on  the  steamer  "George  Wash- 
ington," leaving  Shipping-Port,  below  the  falls  of  the 
Ohio,  Wednesday,  December  13,  1826. 

During  that  entire  journey,  from  the  commencement 
to  our  final  destination,  my  guide  paid  all  the  bills,  and 
did  not  want  either  for  money  or  attention  from  the 
people  with  whom  we  came  in  contact.  He  seemed  every- 
where a  stranger,  and  yet  was  possessed  of  a  talisman  that 
opened  every  door  to  which  he  applied,  and  which  gave 
us  unlimited  accommodations  wherever  he  asked  them. 
When  the  boat  landed  at  Smithland,  Kentucky,  a  village 
on  the  bank  of  the  Ohio,  just  above  Paducah,  we  dis- 
embarked, and  my  guide  then  for  the  first  time  seemed 
mentally  disturbed. 

"Our  journey  together  is  nearly  over,"  he  said ;  "in 
a  few  days  my  responsibility  for  you  will  cease.  Nerve 
yourself    for    the    future,    and    bear    its    trials    and    its 


My  Journey  Continues  8i 

pleasures  manfully.  I  may  never  see  you  again,  but  as 
you  are  even  now  conspicuous  in  our  history,  and  will 
be  closely  connected  with  the  development  of  the  plan  in 
which  I  am  also  interested,  although  I  am  destined  to 
take  a  different  part,  I  shall  probably  hear  of  you  again." 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

A  CAVERN   DISCOVERED. BISSELL's   HILL. 

We  stopped  that  night  at  a  tavern  in  Smithland.  Leav- 
ing this  place  after  dinner  the  next  day,  on  foot,  we  struck 
through  the  country,  into  the  bottom  lands  of  the  Cum- 
berland River,  travelling  leisurely,  lingering  for  hours 
in  the  course  of  a  circuitous  tramp  of  only  a  few  miles. 
Although  it  was  the  month  of  December,  the  climate  was 
mild  and  balmy.  In  my  former  home,  a  similar  time  of 
year  would  have  been  marked  with  snow,  sleet,  and  ice, 
and  I  could  not  but  draw  a  contrast  between  the  two 
localities.  How  different  also  the  scenery  from  that  of 
my  native  State.  Great  timber  trees,  oak,  poplar, 
hickory,  were  in  majestic  possession  of  large  tracts  of 
territory,  in  the  solitude  of  which  man,  so  far  as  evi- 
dences of  his  presence  were  concerned,  had  never  before 
trodden.  From  time  to  time  we  passed  little  clearings 
that  probably  were  to  be  enlarged  to  thrifty  plantations 
in  the  future,  and  finally  we  crossed  the  Cumberland 
River.  That  night  we  rested  with  Mr.  Joseph  Watts,  a 
wealthy  and  cultured  landowner,  who  resided  on  the 
river's  bank.  After  leaving  his  home  the  next  morning, 
we  journeyed  slowly,  very  slowly,  my  guide  seemingly 
passing  with  reluctance  into  the  country.  He  had  become 
a  very  pleasant  companion,  and  his  conversation  was  very 
entertaining.  We  struck  the  sharp  point  of  a  ridge  the 
morning  we  left  Mr.  Watts's  hospitable  house.  It  was 
four  or  five  miles  distant,  but  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
Cumberland,  from  Smithland.  Here  a  steep  bluff  broke 
through  the  bottom  land  to  the  river's  edge,  the  base  of 
the  bisected  point  being  washed  by  the  Cumberland 
River,  which  had  probably  cut  its  way  through  the  stony 


SECTION    OP    KENTUCKY,    KBAR    SMITHLANTJ,   TN  WHICH    THB    ENTRANCE    TO 
THE  KENTUCKY  CAVERN  IS  SAID  TO  BE  LOCATED. 


I.  Paducah. 

».  Smithland. 

3.  Old  Smithland. 

4.  Patterson. 

5.  Frenchtown. 

6.  Hickory  Creek, 

7.  Underwood. 

8.  Btrdsville. 

9.  Bayou  Mills. 
10  Oalc  Rid^. 

ti.  Mozley's  Laodiog. 

la.  Kildare. 

13.  Lola. 

14.  Piockoeyvifle. 


15.  Salem. 

16.  Hampton. 

17.  Faulkner. 

18.  MuUikin. 

19.  Back  Creek. 
JO.  Carrsville. 

31.  Given 's  Creek. 

33.  Golconda. 

33.  Elizabethtown. 

34.  Metropolis  City. 
25.  Hamletsburgh. 

36.  Sheridan. 

37.  Deer  Creek- 

38.  Hurricane. 


39.  Hurricane  Creek. 

30.  Ford's  Ferry. 

31.  Weston. 

32.  Caseyville. 

33.  Tradewater  River. 

34.  Dycusburgh. 

35.  Livingstone  Creek. 

36.  Francis. 

37.  Harrold.     (VlewJ 

38.  Crider. 

39.  Levias. 

40-  Craynerille. 

«i.  Marios. 


84  Etidorhpa 

mineral  of  this  ridge  in  ages  long  passed.  We  climbed 
to  its  top  and  sat  upon  the  pinnacle,  and  from  that  point 
of  commanding  observation  I  drank  in  the  beauties  of 
the  scene  around  me.  The  river  at  our  feet  wound  grace- 
fully before  us,  and  disappeared  in  both  directions,  its 
extremes  dissolving  in  a  bed  of  forest.  A  great  black 
bluff,  far  up  the  stream,  rose  like  a  mountain,  upon  the 
left  side  of  the  river;  bottom  lands  were  about  us,  and 
hills  appeared  across  the  river  in  the  far  distance — 
toward  the  Tennessee  River.  With  regret  I  finally  drew 
my  eyes  from  the  vision,  and  we  resumed  the  journey. 
We  followed  the  left  bank  of  the  river  to  the  base  of  the 
black  bluff — "Bissell's  Hill,"  a  squatter  called  it — and 
then  skirted  the  side  of  that  hill,  passing  along  pre- 
cipitous stone  bluffs  and  among  stunted  cedars.  Above 
us  towered  cliff  over  cliff,  almost  perpendicularly ;  below 
us  rolled  the  river. 

I  was  deeply  impressed  by  the  changing  beauties  of  this 
strange  Kentucky  scenery,  but  marvelled  at  the  fact  that 
while  I  became  light-hearted  and  enthusiastic,  my  guide 
grew  correspondingly  despondent  and  gloomy.  From 
time  to  time  he  lapsed  into  thoughtful  silence,  and  once 
I  caught  his  eye  directed  toward  me  in  a  manner  that  I 
inferred  to  imply  either  pity  or  envy.  We  passed  Bis- 
sell's Bluff,  and  left  the  Cumberland  River  at  its  upper 
extremity,  where  another  small  creek  empties  into  the 
river.  Thence,  after  ascending  the  creek  some  distance, 
we  struck  across  the  country,  finding  it  undulating  and 
fertile,  with  here  and  there  a  small  clearing.  During  this 
journey  we  either  camped  out  at  night,  or  stopped  with  a 
resident,  when  one  was  to  be  found  in  that  sparsely  set- 
tled country.  Sometimes  there  were  exasperating  inter- 
vals between  our  meals;  but  we  did  not  suffer,  for  we 
carried  with  us  supplies  of  food,  such  as  cheese  and 
crackers,  purchased  in  Smithland,  for  emergencies.  We 
thus  proceeded  a  considerable  distance  into  Livingston 
County,  Kentucky. 

I  observed  remarkable  sinks  in  the  earth,  sometimes 


A  Cavern  Discovered  85 

cone-shaped,  again  precipitous.  These  cavities  were  ac- 
casionally  of  considerable  size  and  depth,  and  they  were 
more  numerous  in  the  uplands  than  in  the  bottoms.  They 
were  somewhat  like  the  familiar  "sink-holes"  of  New 
York  State,  but  monstrous  in  comparison.  The  first  that 
attracted  my  attention  was  near  the  Cumberland  River, 
just  before  we  reached  Bissell's  Hill.  It  was  about  forty 
feet  deep  and  thirty  in  diameter,  with  precipitous  stone 
sides,  shrubbery  growing  therein  in  exceptional  spots 
where  loose  earth  had  collected  on  shelves  of  stone  that 
cropped  out  along  its  rugged  sides.  The  bottom  of  the 
depression  was  flat  and  fertile,  covered  with  a  luxuriant 
mass  of  vegetation.  On  one  side  of  the  base  of  the 
gigantic  bowl  a  cavern  struck  down  into  the  earth.  I 
stood  upon  the  edge  of  this  funnel-like  sink,  and  mar- 
velled at  its  peculiar  appearance.  A  spirit  of  curiosity, 
such  as  often  influences  men  when  an  unusual  natural 
scene  presents  itself,  possessed  me.  I  clambered  down, 
swinging  from  brush  to  brush,  and  stepping  from  shelv- 
ing-rock to  shelving-rock,  until  I  reached  the  bottom  of 
the  hollow,  and  placing  my  hand  above  the  black  hole  in 
its  centre,  I  perceived  that  a  current  of  cold  air  was  rush- 
ing therefrom  upward.  I  probed  with  a  long  stick,  but 
the  direction  of  the  opening  was  tortuous,  and  would  not 
admit  of  examination  in  that  manner.  I  dropped  a  large 
pebble-stone  into  the  orifice ;  the  pebble  rolled  and  clanked 
down,  down,  and  at  last  the  sound  died  away  in  the  dis- 
tance. 

'T  wish  that  I  could  go  into  the  cavity  as  that  stone  has 
done,  and  find  the  secrets  of  this  cave,"  I  reflected,  the 
natural  love  of  exploration  possessing  me  as  it  probably 
does  most  men. 

My  companion  above,  seated  on  the  brink  of  the  stone 
wall,  replied  to  my  thoughts :  "Your  wish  shall  be 
granted.  You  have  requested  that  which  has  already 
been  laid  out  for  you.  You  will  explore  where  few  men 
have  passed  before,  and  will  have  the  privilege  of  fol- 
lowing your  destiny  into  a  realm  of  natural  wonders.    A 


86  Etidorhpa 

fertile  field  of  investigation  awaits  you,  such  as  will  sur- 
pass your  most  vivid  imaginings.  Come  and  seat  your- 
self beside  me.  for  it  is  my  duty  now  to  tell  you  something 
about  the  land  we  are  approaching,  the  cavern  fields  of 
Kentuckv." 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

THE   PUNCH-BOWLS   AND   CAVERNS  OF    KENTUCKY. '"iNTO 

THE    UNKNOWN     COUNTRY/' 

"This  part  of  Kentucky  borders  a  field  of  caverns  that 
reaches  from  near  the  State  of  Tennessee  to  the  Ohio 
River,  and  from  the  mouth  of  the  Cumberland,  eastward 
to  and  beyond  the  centre  of  the  State.  This  great  area  is 
of  irregular  outline,  and  as  yet  has  been  Httle  explored. 
Underneath  the  surface  are  layers  of  limestone  and  sand- 
stone rock,  the  deposits  ranging  from  ten  to  one  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  in  thickness,  and  often  great  masses  of 
conglomerate  appear.  This  conglomerate  sometimes 
caps  the  ridges,  and  varies  in  thickness  from  a  few  feet 
only  to  sixty,  or  even  a  hundred,  feet.  It  is  of  a  diver- 
sified character,  sometimes  largely  composed  of  pebbles 
cemented  together  by  iron  ore  into  compact  beds,  while 
again  it  passes  abruptly  into  gritty  sandstone  or  a  fine- 
grained compact  rock  destitute  of  pebbles.  Sometimes 
the  conglomerate  rests  directly  on  the  limestone,  but  in 
the  section  about  us,  more  often  argillaceous  shales  or 
veins  of  coal  intervene,  and  occasionally  inferior  and 
superior  layers  of  conglomerate  are  separated  by  a  bed 
of  coal.  In  addition,  lead-bearing  veins  now  and  then 
crop  up,  the  crystals  of  galena  being  disseminated 
through  masses  of  fluor-spar,  calc-spar,  limestone  and 
clay,  which  fill  fissures  between  tilted  walls  of  limestone 
and  hard  quartzose  sandstone.  Valleys,  hills,  and  moun- 
tains grow  out  of  this  remarkable  crust.  Rivers  and 
creeks  flow  through  and  under  it  in  crevices,  either 
directly  upon  the  bedstone  or  over  deposits  of  clay  which 
underlie  it.  In  some  places,  beds  of  coal  or  slate  alternate 
with  layers  of  the  lime  rock ;  in  others,  the  interspace 
is  clay  and  sand.     Sometimes  the  depth  of  the  several 


88  Etidorhpa 

limestone  and  conglomerate  deposits  is  great,  and  they 
are  often  honeycombed  by  innumerable  transverse  and 
diagonal  spaces.  Water  drips  have  here  and  there 
washed  out  the  more  friable  earth  and  stone,  forming 
grottoes  which  are  as  yet  unknown  to  men,  but  which 
will  be  discovered  to  be  wonderful  and  fantastic  beyond 
anything  of  a  like  nature  now  familiar.  In  other  places 
cavities  exist  between  shelves  of  rock  that  lie  one  above 
the  other — monstrous  openings  caused  by  the  erosive 
action  of  rivers  now  lost,  but  that  have  flowed  during  un- 
numbered ages  past ;  great  parallel  valleys  and  gigantic 
chambers,  one  over  the  other,  remaining  to  tell  the  story 
of  these  former  torrents.  Occasionally  the  weight  of  a 
portion  of  the  disintegrating  rock  above  becomes  too 
great  for  its  tensile  strength  and  the  material  crumbles 
and  falls,  producing  caverns  sometimes  reaching  so  near 
to  the  earth's  surface  as  to  cause  sinks  in  its  crust. 
These  sinks,  when  first  formed,  as  a  rule,  present  clear 
rock  fractures,  and  immediately  after  their  formation 
there  is  usually  a  waterway  beneath.  In  the  course  of 
time  soil  collects  on  their  sides,  they  become  cone-shaped 
hollows  from  the  down-slidings  of  earth,  and  then  vege- 
tation appears  on  the  living  soil ;  trees  grow  within  them, 
and  in  many  places  the  sloping  sides  of  great  earth  bowls 
of  this  nature  are,  after  untold  years,  covered  with  tlie 
virgin  forest :  magnificent  timber  trees  growing  on  soil 
that  has  been  stratified  over  and  upon  decayed  monarchs 
of  the  forest  whose  remains,  imbedded  in  the  earth, 
speak  of  the  ages  that  have  passed  since  the  convulsions 
that  made  the  depressions  which,  notwithstanding  the 
accumulated  debris,  are  still  a  hundred  feet  or  more  in 
depth.  If  the  drain  or  exit  at  the  vortex  of  one  of  these 
sinks  becomes  clogged,  which  often  occurs,  the  entire 
cavity  fills  with  water,  and  a  pond  results.  Again,  a 
slight  orifice  reaching  far  beneath  the  earth's  surface 
may  permit  the  soil  to  be  gradually  washed  into  a  sub- 
terranean creek,  and  thus  are  formed  great  bowls,  like 
funnels  sunk  in  the  earth^Kentucky  punch-bowls.      ^  ^  i 


"Into  the  Unknown  Country"  89 

"Take  the  country  about  us,  especially  toward  the 
Mammoth  Cave,  and  for  miles  beyond,  the  landscape  in 
certain  localities  is  pitted  with  this  description  of  sinks, 
some  recent,  others  very  old.  Many  are  small,  but  deep ; 
others  are  large  and  shallow.  Ponds  often  of  great 
depth,  curiously  enough  overflowing  and  giving  rise  to 
a  creek,  are  to  be  found  on  a  ridge,  telling  of  under- 
ground supply  springs,  not  outlets,  beneath.  Chains  of 
such  sinks,  like  a  row  of  huge  funnels,  often  appear ;  the 
soil  between  them  is  slowly  washed  through  their  exit 
into  the  river,  flowing  in  the  depths  below,  and  as  the 
earth  that  separates  them  is  carried  away  by  the  subter- 
ranean streams,  the  bowls  coalesce,  and  a  ravine,  closed 
at  both  ends,  results.  Along  the  bottom  of  such  a  ravine 
a  creek  may  flow,  rushing  from  its  natural  tunnel  at  one 
end  of  the  line,  and  disappearing  in  a  gulf  at  the  other. 
The  stream  begins  in  mystery,  and  ends  in  unfatliomed 
darkness.  Near  Marion,  Hurricane  Creek  thus  disap- 
pears, and,  so  far  as  men  know,  is  lost  to  sight  forever- 
Near  Cridersville,  in  this  neighborhood,  a  valley  such  as. 
I  have  described  takes  in  the  surface  floods  of  a  large 
tract  of  country.  The  waters  that  run  down  its  sides 
during  a  storm  form  a  torrent,  and  fence-rails,  timbers, 
and  other  objects  are  gulped  into  the  chasm  where  the 
creek  plunges  into  the  earth,  and  they  never  appear 
again.  This  part  of  Kentucky  is  the  most  remarkable 
portion  of  the  known  world,  and  although  now  neglected, 
in  a  time  to  come  is  surely  destined  to  an  extended  dis- 
tinction. I  have  referred  only  to  the  surface,  the  skin 
formation,  of  this  honeycombed  labyrinth,  the  entrance 
to  the  future  wonderland  of  the  world.  Portions  of 
such  a  superficial  cavern  maze  have  been  traversed  by 
man  in  the  ramifications  known  as  the  Mammoth  Cave,, 
but  deeper  than  man  has  yet  explored,  the  subcutaneous 
structure  of  that  series  of  caverns  is  yet  to  be  investi- 
gated. The  Mammoth  Cave  as  now  traversed  is  sim- 
ply a  superficial  series  of  grottoes  and  passages  over- 
lying the  deeper  cavern  field  that  I  have  described.    The 


90  Etidorhpa 

explored  chain  of  passages  is  of  great  interest  to  men, 
it  is  true,  but  of  minor  importance  compared  to  others 
yet  unknown,  being,  in  fact,  the  result  of  mere  surface 
erosion.  The  river  that  bisects  the  cave,  just  be- 
neath the  surface  of  the  earth,  and  known  as  Echo  River, 
is  a  miniature  stream :  there  are  others  more  magnifi- 
cent that  flow  majestically  far,  far  beneath  it.  As  we 
descend  into  the  earth  in  that  locality,  caverns  multi- 
ply iU'  number  and  increase  in  size,  retaining  the  general 
configuration  of  those  I  have  described.  The  layers  of 
rock  are  thicker,  the  intervening  spaces  broader ;  they 
stretch  in  increasingly  expanded  chambers  for  miles, 
while  high  above  each  series  of  caverns  the  solid  ceilings 
of  stone  arch  and  interarch.  Sheltered  under  these  sub- 
terrene  alcoves  are  streams,  lakes,  rivers  and  waterfalls. 
Near  the  surface  of  the  earth  such  waters  often  teem  with 
aquatic  life,  and  some  of  the  caves  are  inhabited  by 
species  of  birds,  reptiles  and  mammals  as  yet  unknown  to 
men,  creatures  possessed  of  senses  and  organs  that  are 
different  from  any  we  find  with  surface  animals,  and 
also  apparently  defective  in  particulars  that  would  star- 
tle persons  acquainted  only  with  creatures  that  live  in 
the  sunshine.  It  is  a  world  beneath  a  world,  a  world 
within  a  world — "    My  guide  abruptly  stopped. 

I  sat  entranced,  marvelling  at  the  young-old  adept's 
knowledge,  admiring  his  accomplishments.  I  gazed  into 
the  cavity  that  yawned  beneath  me,  and  imagined  its 
possible  but  to  me  invisible  secrets,  enraptured  with  the 
thought  of  searching  into  them.  Who  would  not  feel 
elated  at  the  prospect  of  an  exploration  such  as  I  fore- 
saw might  be  pursued  in  my  immediate  future?  I  had 
often  been  charmed  with  narrative  descriptions  of  dis- 
coveries, and  book  accounts  of  scientific  investigations, 
but  I  had  never  pictured  myself  as  a  participant  in  such 
fascinating  enterprises. 

"Indeed,  indeed,"  I  cried  exultingly ;  "lead  me  to  this 
Wonderland,  show  me  the  entrance  to  this  Subterranean 
^^'orld,  and  I  promise  willingly  to  do  as  you  bid." 


"Into  the  Unknown  Country"         91 

"Bravo!"  he  replied,  "your  heart  is  right,  your  cour- 
age sufficient ;  I  have  not  disclosed  a  thousandth  part  of 
the  wonders  of  which  I  have  knowledge,  and  which 
await  your  research,  and  probably  I  have  not  gained  even 
an  insight  into  the  mysteries  that,  if  your  courage  per- 
mits, you  will  be  privileged  to  comprehend.  Your  des- 
tiny lies  beyond,  far  beyond  that  which  I  have  pictured 
or  experienced ;  and  I,  notwithstanding  my  opportuni- 
ties, have  no  conception  of  its  end,  for  at  the  critical 
moment  my  heart  faltered — I  can  therefore  only  de- 
scribe the  beginning." 

Thus  at  the  lower  extremity  of  Bissell's  Hill  I  was 
made  aware  of  the  fact  that  within  a  short  time  I  should 
be  separated  from  my  sympathetic  guide,  and  that  it  was 
to  be  my  duty  to  explore  alone,  or  in  other  company, 
some  portion  of  these  Kentucky  cavern  deeps,  and  I 
longed  for  the  beginning  of  my  underground  journey. 
Heavens !  how  different  would  have  been  my  future  life 
could  I  then  have  realized  my  position !  Would  that  I 
could  have  seen  the  end !  After  a  few  days  of  uneventful 
travel,  we  rested,  one  afternoon,  in  a  hilly  country  that 
before  us  appeared  to  be  more  rugged,  even  mountain- 
ous. We  had  wandered  leisurely,  and  were  now  at  a 
considerable  distance  from  the  Cumberland  River,  the 
aim  of  my  guide  being,  as  I  surmised,  to  evade  a  direct 
approach  to  some  object  of  interest  which  I  must  not 
locate  exactly,  and  yet  which  I  shall  try  to  describe  ac- 
curately enough  for  identification  by  a  person  familiar 
with  the  topography  of  that  section.  We  stood  on  the 
side  of  a  stony,  sloping  hill,  back  of  which  spread  a 
wooded,  undulating  valley. 

"I  remember  to  have  passed  along  a  creek  in  that  val- 
ley," I  remarked,  looking  back  over  our  pathway.  "It 
appeared  to  rise  from  this  direction,  but  the  source 
ends  abruptly  in  this  chain  of  hills." 

"The  stream  is  beneath  us,"  he  answered.  Advancing 
a  few  paces,  he  brought  to  my  attention,  on  the  hillside, 
an  opening  in  the  earth.    This  aperture  was  irregular  in 


92  Etidorhpa 

form,  about  the  diameter  of  a  well,  and  descended  per- 
pendicularly into  the  stony  crust.  I  leaned  far  over  the 
orifice,  and  heard  the  gurgle  of  rushing  water  beneath. 
The  guide  dropped  a  heavy  stone  into  the  gloomy  shaft, 
and  after  some  seconds  a  dull  splash  announced  its 
plunge  into  underground  water.  Then  he  leaned  over 
the  stony  edge,  and — could  I  be  mistaken? — seemed  to 
signal  to  some  one  beneath ;  but  it  must  be  imagination 
on  my  part,  I  argued  to  myself,  even  against  my  very 
sense  of  sight.  Rising,  and  taking  me  by  the  hand,  my 
guardian  spoke : 

"Brother,  we  approach  the  spot  where  you  and  I  must 
separate.  I  serve  my  masters  and  am  destined  to  go 
where  I  shall  next  be  commanded ;  you  will  descend  into 
the  earth,  as  you  have  recently  desired  to  do.  Here  we 
part,  most  likely  forever.  This  rocky  fissure  will  admit 
the  last  ray  of  sunlight  on  your  path." 

My  heart  failed.  How  often  are  we  courageous  in 
daylight  and  timid  by  night?  Men  unflinchingly  face  in 
sunshine  dangers  at  which  they  shudder  in  the  dark- 
ness. 

"How  am  I  to  descend  into  that  abyss?"  I  gasped. 
"The  sides  are  perpendicular,  the  depth  is  unknown!" 
Then  I  cried  in  alarm,  the  sense  of  distrust  deepening: 
"Do  you  mean  to  drown  me;  is  it  for  this  you  have  led 
me  away  from  my  native  State,  from  friends,  home  and 
kindred?  You  have  enticed  me  into  this  wilderness. 
I  have  been  decoyed,  and,  like  a  foolish  child,  have 
willingly  accompanied  my  destroyer.  You  feared  to 
murder  me  in  my  distant  home ;  the  earth  could  not  have 
hidden  me ;  Niagara  even  might  have  given  up  my  body 
to  dismay  the  murderers !  In  this  underground  river  in 
the  wilds  of  Kentucky  all  trace  of  my  existence  will  dis- 
appear forever." 

I  was  growing  furious.  My  frenzied  eyes  searched 
the  ground  for  some  missile  of  defence.  By  strange 
chance  some  one  had  left,  on  that  solitary  spot,  a  rude 
weapon,  providentially  dropped  for  my  use,  I  thought. 


"  Into  the  Unknown  Country  "         93 

It  was  a  small  iron  bolt  or  bar.  somewhat  rusted.  I 
threw  myself  upon  the  earth,  and,  as  I  did  so,  picked 
this  up  quickly,  and  secreted  it  within  my  bosom.  Then 
I  arose  and  resumed  my  stormy  denunciation : 

"You  have  played  your  part  well,  you  have  led  your 
unresisting  victim  to  the  sacrifice,  but  if  I  am  compelled 
to  plunge  into  this  black  grave,  you  shall  go  with  me!" 
I  shrieked  in  desperation,  and  suddenly  threw  my  arms 
around  the  gentle  adept,  intending  to  hurl  him  into  the 
chasm.  At  this  point  I  felt  my  hands  seized  from  be- 
hind in  a  cold,  clammy,  irresistible  embrace,  my  fingers 
were  loosed  by  a  strong  grasp,  and  I  turned,  to  find  my- 
self confronted  by  a  singular-looking  being,  who  quietly 
said: 

"You  are  not  to  be  destroyed ;  we  wish  only  to  do 
your  bidding." 

'1  he  speaker  stood  in  a  stooping  position,  with  his  face 
toward  the  earth,  as  if  to  shelter  it  from  the  sunshine. 
He  was  less  than  five  feet  in  height.  His  arms  and  legs 
were  bare,  and  his  skin,  the  color  of  light  blue  putty,  glis- 
tened in  the  sunlight  like  the  slimy  hide  of  a  water  dog. 
He  raised  his  head,  and  I  shuddered  in  affright  as  I  be- 
held that  his  face  was  not  that  of  a  human.  His  fore- 
head extended  in  an  unbroken  plane  from  crown  to  cheek 
bone,  and  the  chubby  tip  of  an  abortive  nose  without 
nostrils  formed  a  short  projection  near  the  centre  of  the 
level  ridge  which  represented  a  countenance.  There  was 
no  semblance  of  an  eye,  for  there  were  no  sockets.  Yet 
his  voice  was  singularly  perfect.  His  face,  if  face  it 
could  be  called,  was  wet,  and  water  dripped  from  all 
parts  of  his  slippery  person.  Yet,  repulsive  as  he  looked, 
I  shuddered  more  at  the  remembrance  of  the  touch  of 
that  cold,  clammy  hand  than  at  the  sight  of  his  figure, 
for  a  dead  man  could  not  have  chilled  me  as  he  had  done, 
with  his  sappy  skin,  from  which  the  moisture  seemed 
to  ooze  as  from  the  hide  of  a  water  lizard. 

Turning  to  my  guide,  this  freak  of  Nature  said, 
softly : 


94  Etidorhpa 

"I  have  come  in  obedience  to  the  signal." 
I  realized  at  once  that  alone  with  these  two  I  was 
powerless,  and  that  to  resist  would  be  suicidal.  Instantly 
my  effervescing  passion  subsided,  and  I  expressed  no 
further  surprise  at  this  sudden  and  remarkable  appari- 
tion, but  mentally  acquiesced.  I  was  alone  and  helpless ; 
rage  gave  place  to  inertia  in  the  despondency  that  fol- 
lowed the  realization  of  my  hopeless  condition.  The 
grotesque  newcomer  who,  though  sightless,  possessed 
a  strange  instinct,  led  us  to  the  base  of  the  hill  a  few 
hundred  feet  away,  and  there,  gushing  into  the  light 
from  the  rocky  bluff,  I  saw  a  magnificent  stream  issuing 
many  feet  in  width.  This  was  the  headwaters  of  the 
mysterious  brook  that  I  had  previously  noticed.  It 
flowed  from  an  archway  in  the  solid  stone,  springing 
directly  out  of  the  rock-bound  cliff ;  beautiful  and  pictur- 
esque in  its  surroundings.  The  limpid  water,  clear  and 
sparkling,  issued  from  the  unknown  source  that  was 
typical  of  darkness,  but  the  brook  of  crystal  leaped  into 
a  world  of  sunshine,  light  and  freedom. 

"Brother,"  said  my  companion,  "this  spring  emerging 
from  this  prison  of  earth  images  to  us  what  humanity 
will  be  when  the  prisoning  walls  of  ignorance  that  now 
enthrall  him  are  removed.  Man  has  heretofore  relied 
chiefly  for  his  advancement,  both  mental  and  physical,  on 
knowledge  gained  from  so-called  scientific  explorations 
and  researches  with  matter,  from  material  studies  rather 
than  spiritual,  all  his  investigations  having  been  confined 
to  the  crude,  coarse  substance  of  the  surface  of  the  globe. 
Spiritualistic  investigations,  unfortunately,  are  consid- 
ered by  scientific  men  too  often  as  reaching  backward 
only.  The  religions  of  the  world  clasp  hands  with  and 
lean  upon  the  dead  past,  it  is  true,  but  point  to  a  living 
future.  Man  must  yet  search,  by  the  agency  of  senses 
and  spirit,  the  unfathomed  mysteries  that  lie  beneath  his 
feet  and  over  his  head,  and  he  who  refuses  to  bow  to  the 
Creator  and  honor  his  handiwork  discredits  himself. 
When  this  work  is  accomplished,  as  it  yet  will  be,  the 


"  Into  the  Unknown  Country  "         95 

future  man,  able  then  to  comprehend  the  problem  of  life 
in  its  broader  significance,  drawing  from  all  directions 
the  facts  necessary  to  his  mental  advancement,  will  have 
reached  a  state  in  which  he  can  enjoy  bodily  comfort  and 
supreme  spiritual  perfection,  while  he  is  yet  an  earth- 
bound  mortal.  In  hastening  this  consummation,  it  is 
necessary  that  an  occasional  human  life  should  be  lost 
to  the  world,  but  such  sacrifices  are  noble — yes,  sublime, 
because  contributing  to  the  future  exaltation  of  our  race. 
The  secret  workers  in  the  sacred  order  of  which  you  are 
still  a  member  have  ever  taken  an  important  part  in  fur- 
thering such  a  system  of  evolution.  This  feature  of  our 
work  is  unknown  to  brethren  of  the  ordinary  fraternity, 
and  the  individual  research  of  each  secret  messenger  is 
unguessed  by  the  craft  at  large.  Hence  it  is  that  the  open 
workers  of  our  order,  those  initiated  by  degrees  only, 
who  in  lodge  rooms  carry  on  their  beneficent  labors 
among  men,  have  had  no  hand  other  than  as  agents  in 
your  removal,  and  no  knowledge  of  your  present  or 
future  movements.  Their  function  is  to  keep  together 
our  organization  on  earth,  and  from  them  only  an  occa- 
sional member  is  selected,  as  you  have  been,  to  perform 
special  duties  in  certain  adventurous  studies.  Are  you 
willing  to  go  on  this  journey  of  exploration?  and  are 
you  brave  enough  to  meet  the  trials  you  have  invited  ?" 

Again  my  enthusiasm  arose,  and  I  felt  the  thrill  ex- 
perienced by  an  investigator  who  stands  on  the  brink  of 
an  important  discovery,  and  needs  but  courage  to  ad- 
vance, and  I  answered,  "Yes." 

"Then,  farewell ;  this  archway  is  the  entrance  that  will 
admit  you  into  your  arcanum  of  usefulness.  This  mystic 
Brother,  though  a  stranger  to  you,  has  long  been  ap- 
prised of  our  coming,  and  it  was  he  who  sped  me  on  my 
journey  to  seek  you,  and  who  has  since  been  waiting  for 
us,  and  is  to  be  your  guide  during  the  first  stages  of  your 
subterrene  progress.  He  is  a  Friend,  and,  if  you  trust 
him,  will  protect  you  from  harm.  You  will  find  the 
necessaries  of  life  supplied,  for  I  have  traversed  part  of 


96  Etidorhpa 

your  coming  road ;  that  part  I  therefore  know,  but,  as  I 
have  said,  you  are  to  go  deeper  into  the  unexplored — 
yes,  into  and  beyond  the  Beyond,  until  finally  you  will 
come  to  the  gateway  that  leads  into  the  'Unknown  Coun- 
try.' " 


CHAPTER   XV. 

FAREWELL   TO   GOD's    SUNSHINE — THE    ECHO    OF    THE    CRY. 

Thus  speaking,  my  quiet  leader,  who  had  so  long  been 
as  a  shepherd  to  my  wandering  feet  on  the  upper  earth, 
grasped  my  hands  tightly,  and  placed  them  in  those  of 
my  new  companion,  whose  clammy  fingers  closed  over 
them  as  with  a  grip  of  iron.  The  mysterious  being,  now 
my  custodian,  turned  toward  the  creek,  drawing  me 
after  him,  and  together  we  silently  and  solemnly  waded 
beneath  the  stone  archway.  As  I  passed  under  the 
shadow  of  that  dismal,  yawning  cliff,  I  turned  my  head 
to  take  one  last  glimpse  of  the  world  I  had  known — 
that  "warm  precinct  of  the  cheerful  day" — and  tears 
sprang  to  my  eyes.  I  thought  of  life,  family,  friends — 
of  all  for  w^hich  men  live — and  a  melancholy  vision  arose, 
that  of  my  lost,  lost  home.  My  companion  of  the  jour- 
ney that  had  just  ended  stood  in  the  sunlight  on  the 
banks  of  the  rippling  stream,  gazing  at  us  intently,  and 
waved  an  affectionate  farewell.  My  uncouth  new  asso- 
ciate (guide  or  master,  whichever  he  might  be)  of  the 
journey  to  come  clasped  me  firmly  by  the  arms,  and 
waded  slowly  onward,  thrusting  me  steadily  against  the 
cold  current,  and  with  irresistible  force  pressed  me  into 
the  thickening  darkness.  The  daylight  disappeared,  the 
pathway  contracted,  the  water  deepened  and  became 
more  chilly.  We  were  constrained  to  bow  our  heads  in 
order  to  avoid  the  overhanging  vault  of  stone ;  the  water 
reached  to  my  chin,  and  now  the  down-jutting  roof 
touched  the  crown  of  my  head ;  then  I  shuddered  con- 
vulsively as  the  last  ray  of  daylight  disappeared. 

Had  it  not  been  for  my  companion,  I  know  that  I 
should  have  sunk  in  despair,  and  drowned ;  but  with  a 


98  Etidorhpa 

firm  hand  he  held  my  head  above  the  water,  and  steadily 
pushed  me  onward.  I  had  reached  the  extreme  of  de- 
spondency :  I  neither  feared  nor  cared  for  hfe  or  death, 
and  I  realized  that,  powerless  to  control  my  own  acts, 
my  fate,  the  future,  my  existence  depended  on  the  strange 
being  beside  me.  I  was  mysteriously  sustained,  how- 
ever, by  a  sense  of  bodily  security,  such  as  comes  over 
us  when  in  the  hands  of  an  experienced  guide  we  jour- 
ney through  a  wilderness,  for  I  felt  that  my  pilot  of  the 
underworld  did  not  purpose  to  destroy  me.  We  halted  a 
moment,  and  then,  as  a  faint  light  overspread  us,  my  eye- 
less guide  directed  me  to  look  upward. 

"We  now  stand  beneath  the  crevice  which  you  were 
told  by  your  former  guide  W'Ould  admit  the  last  ray  of 
sunlight  on  your  path.  I  also  say  to  you,  this  struggling 
ray  of  sunlight  is  to  be  your  last  for  years." 

I  gazed  above  me,  feeling  all  the  wretchedness  of  a 
dying  man  who,  with  faculties  intact,  might  stand  on  the 
dark  edge  of  the  hillside  of  eternity,  glancing  back  into 
the  bright  world ;  and  that  small  opening  far,  far  over- 
head, seemed  as  the  gate  to  Paradise  Lost.  Many  a  per- 
son, assured  of  ascending  at  will,  has  stood  at  the  bottom 
of  a  deep  well  or  shaft  to  a  mine,  and  even  then  felt  the 
indescribable  sensation  of  dread,  often  terror,  that  is 
produced  by  such  a  situation.  Awe,  mystery,  uncer- 
tainty of  life  and  future  superadded,  may  express  my 
sensation.  I  trembled,  shrinking  in  horror  from  my  cap- 
tor and  struggled  violently. 

"Hold,  hold,"  I  begged,  as  one  involuntarily  prays  a 
surgeon  to  delay  the  incision  of  the  amputating  knife, 
"just  one  moment."  My  companion,  unheeding,  moved 
on,  the  light  vanished  instantly,  and  we  were  surrounded 
by  total  darkness.    God's  sunshine  was  blotted  out. 

Then  I  again  became  unconcerned ;  I  was  not  now  re- 
sponsible for  my  own  existence,  and  the  feeling  that  I  ex- 
perienced when  a  prisoner  in  the  closed  carriage  re- 
turned. I  grew  careless  concerning  my  fate,  and  with 
stolid  indiflference  struggled  onward  as  we  progressed 


'  THIS  STRr(;i;i  1N(  ,    l;  \S    i  i|     srMi(;n  r   is  '1(  >   1;K  yd  IK   I.AS'I'  1-()K  YEARS. 


Farewell  to  God's  Sunshine  99 

slowly  against  the  current  of  water.  I  began  even  to 
interest  myself  in  speculations  regarding  our  surround- 
ings, and  the  object  or  outcome  of  our  journey.  In 
places  the  water  was  shallow,  scarce  reaching  to  our 
ankles ;  again  it  was  so  deep  that  we  could  wade  only 
with  exertion,  and  at  times  the  passage  up  which  we 
toiled  was  so  narrow  that  it  would  scarcely  admit  us. 
After  a  long,  laborious  stemming  of  the  unseen  brook, 
my  companion  directed  me  to  close  my  mouth,  hold  my 
nostrils  with  my  fingers,  and  stoop ;  almost  diving  with 
me  beneath  the  water,  he  drew  me  through  the  sub- 
merged crevice,  and  we  ascended  into  an  open  chamber, 
and  left  the  creek  behind  us.  I  fancied  that  we  were  in 
a  large  room,  and  as  I  shouted  aloud  to  test  my  hypothe- 
sis, echo  after  echo  answered,  until  at  last  the  cry  rever- 
berated and  died  away  in  distant  murmurs.  We  were 
evidently  in  a  great  pocket  or  cavern,  through  which 
my  guide  now  walked  rapidly;  indeed,  he  passed  along 
with  unerring  footsteps,  as  certain  of  his  course  as  I 
might  be  on  familiar  ground  in  full  daylight.  I  per- 
ceived that  he  systematically  evaded  inequalities  that  I 
could  not  anticipate  nor  see.  He  would  tell  me  to  step 
up  or  down,  as  the  surroundings  required,  and  we 
ascended  or  descended  accordingly.  Our  path  turned 
to  the  right  or  the  left  from  time  to  time,  but  my  eyeless 
guide  passed  through  what  were  evidently  the  most  tor- 
tuous windings  without  a  mishap.  I  wondered  much  at 
this  gift  of  knowledge,  and  at  last  overcame  my  reserve 
sufficiently  to  ask  how  we  could  thus  unerringly  proceed 
in  utter  darkness.    The  reply  was : 

"The  path  is  plainly  visible  to  me ;  I  see  as  clearly  in 
pitch  darkness  as  you  can  in  sunshine." 

"Explain  yourself  further,"  I  requested. 

He  replied,  "Not  yet;  and  continued,  "you  are  weary, 
we  will  rest." 

He  conducted  me  to  a  seat  on  a  ledge,  and  left  me  for  a 
time.  Returning  soon,  he  placed  in  my  hands  food  which 
I  ate  with  novel  relish.     The  pabulum  seemed  to  be  o£ 


loo  Etidorhpa 

vegetable  origin,  though  varieties  of  it  had  a  peculiar 
flesh-like  flavor.  .Several  separate  and  distinct  sub- 
stances were  contained  in  the  queer  viands,  some  por- 
tions savoring  of  wholesome  flesh,  while  others  possessed 
the  delicate  flavors  of  various  fruits,  such  as  the  straw- 
berry and  the  pineapple.  The  strange  edibles  were  of  a 
pulpy  texture,  homogeneous  in  consistence,  parts  being 
juicy  and  acid,  like  grateful  fruits.  Some  portions  were 
in  slices  or  films  that  I  could  hold  in  my  hand  like  sec- 
tions of  a  velvet  melon,  and  yet  were  in  many  respects 
unlike  any  other  food  that  I  had  ever  tasted.  There  was 
neither  rind  nor  seed ;  it  seemed  to  the  touch  like  the  gills 
of  a  fish,  and  in  answer  to  my  question  the  guide  re- 
marked : 

"Yes ;  it  is  the  gill,  but  not  the  gill  of  a  fish.  You  will 
be  instructed  in  due  time."  I  will  add  that  after  this, 
whenever  necessary,  we  were  supplied  with  food,  but 
both  thirst  and  hunger  altogether  disappeared  before  our 
underground  journey  was  finished. 

After  a  while  we  again  began  our  tramp,  which  we 
continued  in  what  was  to  me  absolute  darkness.  My 
strength  seemed  to  endure  the  fatigue  to  a  wonderful  de- 
gree, notwithstanding  that  we  must  have  been  walking 
hour  after  hour,  and  I  expressed  a  curiosity  about  the 
fact.  My  guide  replied  that  the  atmosphere  of  the  cav- 
ern possessed  an  intrinsic  vitalizing  power  that  neutral- 
ized fatigue,  "or,"  he  vSaid,  "there  is  here  art  inherent 
constitutional  energy  derived  from  an  active  gaseous 
substance  that  belongs  to  cavern  air  at  this  depth,  and 
sustains  the  life  force  by  contributing  directly  to  its  con- 
servation, taking  the  place  of  food  and  drink." 

"I  do  not  understand,"  I  said. 

"No;  and  you  do  not  comprehend  how  ordinary  air 
supports  mind  and  vitalizes  muscle,  and  at  the  same  time 
wears  out  both  muscle  and  all  other  tissues.  These  are 
facts  which  are  not  satisfactorily  explained  by  scientific 
statements  concerning  oxygenation  of  the  blood.  As 
we  descend  into  the  earth  we  find  an  increase  in  the  life 


Farewell  to  God's  Sunshine  loi 

force  of  the  cavern  air,  that  is  fact  and  is  no  less  fact 
because  as  yet  scientific  men  are  in  ignorance  thereof." 

This  reference  to  surface  earth  recalled  my  former  life, 
and  led  me  to  contrast  my  present  situation  with  that 
which  I  had  forfeited.  I  was  seized  with  an  uncontrol- 
lable longing  for  home,  and  then  a  painful  craving  for 
the  past  took  possession  of  my  heart,  but  with  a  strong 
eftort  I  shook  off  the  sensations.  We  travelled  on  and  on 
in  silence  and  in  darkness,  and  again  came  to  mind  the 
remark  of  my  former  guide,  who  had  said  :  "You  are  des- 
tined to  go  deeper  into  the  unknown;  yes,  into  and  be- 
yond the  Beyond." 


^ 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

A  ZONE  OF  LIGHT  DEEP  WITHIN  THE  EARTH. 

"Oh  !  for  one  glimpse  of  light,  a  ray  of  sunshine !" 

In  reply  to  this  my  mental  ejaculation,  my  guide  said : 
"Cannot  you  perceive  that  the  darkness  is  becoming  less* 
intense?" 

"No,"  I  answered,  "I  cannot ;  night  is  absolute." 

"Are  you  sure?"  he  asked.  "Cover  your  eyes  with 
your  hands,  then  uncover  and  open  them."  I  did  so  and 
fancied  that  by  contrast  a  faint  gray  hue  was  apparent. 

"This  must  be  imagination." 

"No ;  we  now  approach  a  zone  of  earth  light ;  let  us 
hasten  on." 

"A  zone  of  light  deep  in  the  earth  !  Incomprehensible ! 
Incredible !"  I  muttered,  and  yet  as  we  went  onward  and 
time  passed  the  darkness  was  surely  less  intense.  The 
barely  perceptible  hue  became  gray  and  sombre,  and  then 
of  a  pearly  translucence,  and  although  I  could  not  dis- 
tinguish the  outline  of  objects,  yet  I  unquestionably  per- 
ceived light. 

"I  am  amazed!  What  can  be  the  cause  of  this 
phenomenon  ?  What  is  the  nature  of  this  mysterious  halo 
that  surrounds  us?"  I  held  my  open  hand  before  my 
eyes,  and  perceived  the  darkness  of  my  spread  fingers. 

"It  is  light,  it  is  light,"  I  shouted,  "it  is  really  light!" 
and  from  near  and  from  far  the  echoes  of  that  subter- 
ranean cavern  answered  back  joyfully,  "It  is  light,  it  is 
light !" 

I  wept  in  joy,  and  threw  my  arms  about  my  guide ;  for- 
getting in  the  ecstasy  his  clammy  cuticle,  I  danced  in 
hysterical  glee  and  alternately  laughed  and  cried.  How 
vividly  I  realized  then  that  the  imprisoned  miner  would 
give  a  world  of  gold,  his  former  god,  for  a  ray  of  light. 


A  Zone  of  Light  103 

"Compose  yourself;  this  emotional  exhibition  is  an  evi- 
dence of  weakness ;  an  investigator  should  neither  become 
depressed  over  a  reverse  nor  unduly  enthusiastic  over  a 
fortunate  discovery." 

"But  v^e  approach  the  earth's  surface?  Soon  I  shall  be 
back  in  the  sunshine  again." 

"Upon  the  contrary,  we  have  been  continually  descend- 
ing into  the  earth,  and  we  are  now  ten  miles  or  more 
beneath  the  level  of  the  ocean." 

I  shrank  back,  hesitated,  and  in  despondency  gazed  at 
his  hazy  outline,  then,  as  if  palsied,  sank  upon  the  stony 
floor;  but  as  I  saw  the  light  before  me,  I  leaped  up  and 
shouted : 

"What  you  say  is  not  true;  we  approach  daylight,  I 
can  see  your  form." 

"Listen  to  me,"  he  said.  "Cannot  you  understand  that 
I  have  led  you  continually  down  a  steep  descent,  and  that 
for  hours  there  has  been  no  step  upward  ?  With  but  little 
exertion  you  have  walked  this  distance  without  becoming 
wearied,  and  you  could  not,  without  great  fatigue,  have 
ascended  for  so  long  a  period.  You  are  entering  a  zone  of 
inner  earth  light ;  we  are  in  the  surface,  the  upper  edge 
of  it.  Let  us  hasten  on,  for  when  this  cavern  darkness 
is  at  an  end — and  I  will  say  we  have  nearly  passed  that 
limit — your  courage  will  return,  and  then  we  will  rest." 

"You  surely  do  not  speak  the  truth;  science  and 
philosophy,  and  I  am  somewhat  versed  in  both,  have 
never  told  me  of  such  a  light." 

"Can  philosophers  more  than  speculate  about  that 
which  they  have  not  experienced  if  they  have  no  data 
from  which  to  calculate?  Name  the  student  in  science 
who  has  reached  this  depth  in  earth,  or  has  seen  a  man 
to  tell  him  of  these  facts." 
"I  cannot." 

"Then  why  should  you  have  expected  any  of  them  to 
describe  our  surroundings?  Misguided  men  will  torture 
science  by  refuting  facts  with  theories ;  but  a  fact  is  no 
less  a  fact  when  misinformed  science  opposes." 


I04  Etidorhpa 

I  recognized  the  force  of  his  arguments,  and  cordially 
grasped  his  hand  in  indication  of  submission.  We  con- 
tinued our  journey,  and  rapidly  travelled  downward  and 
onward.  The  light  gradually  increased  in  intensity,  until 
at  length  the  cavern  near  about  us  seemed  to  be  as  bright 
as  diffused  daylight  could  have  made  it.  There  was  ap- 
parently no  central  point  of  radiation ;  the  light  was  such 
as  to  pervade  and  exist  in  the  surrounding  space,  some- 
what as  the  vapor  of  phosphorus  spreads  a  self-luminous 
haze  throughout  the  bubble  into  which  it  is  blown.  The 
visual  agent  surrounding  us  had  a  permanent,  self-exist- 
ing luminosity,  and  was  a  pervading,  bright,  unreachable 
essence  that,  without  an  obvious  origin,  diffused  itself 
equally  in  all  directions.  It  reminded  me  of  the  form  of 
light  that  in  previous  years  I  had  seen  described  as  epi- 
polic  dispersion,  and  as  I  refer  to  the  matter  I  am  of  the 
opinion  that  man  will  yet  find  that  the  same  cause  pro- 
duces both  phenomena.  I  was  informed  now  by  the  sense 
of  sight,  that  we  were  in  a  cavern  room  of  considerable 
size.  The  apartment  presented  somewhat  the  appearance 
of  the  usual  underground  caverns  that  I  had  seen  pic- 
tured in  books,  and  yet  was  different.  Stalactites,  stalag- 
mites, saline  incrustations,  occurring  occasionally,  re- 
minded me  of  travellers'  stories,  but  these  objects  were 
not  so  abundant  as  might  be  supposed.  Such  accretions  or 
deposits  of  saline  substances  as  I  noticed  were  also  disap- 
pointing, in  that,  instead  of  possessing  a  dazzling  bril- 
liancy, like  frosted  snow  crystals,  they  were  of  a  uniform 
gray  or  brown  hue.  Indeed,  my  former  imaginative  men- 
tal creations  regarding  underground  caverns  were  dis- 
pelled in  this  sombre  stone  temple,  for  even  the  floor  and 
the  fragments  of  stone  that,  in  considerable  quantities, 
strewed  the  floor,  were  of  the  usual  rock  formations  of 
upper  earth.  The  glittering  crystals  of  snowy  white  or 
rainbow  tints  (fairy  caverns)  pictured  by  travellers,  and 
described  as  inexpressibly  grand  and  beautiful  in  other 
cavern  labyrinths,  were  wanting  here,  and  I  saw  only  oc- 
casional small  clusters  of  quartz  crystals  that  were  other 


A  Zone  of  Light  105 

than  of  a  dull  gray  color.  Then  my  guide  struck  oft  into 
a  discussion  concerning  the  problems  confronting  man- 
kind, using  as  a  text  this  subject  of  the  intra-earth  light, 
after  which  we  resumed  our  journey,  passing  next  into  a 
dry,  well-ventilated  apartment.  Stalactite  formations 
still  existed,  indicative  of  former  periods  of  water  drip- 
pings, but  as  we  journeyed  onward  I  saw  no  evidence  of 
present  percolations,  the  developing  and  erosive  agencies 
that  had  worked  in  ages  past  must  long  ago  have  been 
suspended.  The  floor  was  of  solid  stone,  entirely  free 
from  loose  earth  and  fallen  rocky  fragments.  It  was 
smooth  upon  the  surface,  but  generally  disposed  in  gentle 
undulations.  The  peculiar,  soft,  radiant  light,  to  which 
my  guide  referred  as  "vitalized  darkness"  or  "revivified 
sunshine,"  pervaded  all  the  space  about  me,  but  I  could 
not  by  its  agency  distinguish  the  sides  of  the  vast  cavern. 
The  brightness  was  of  a  species  that  while  it  brought  into 
distinctness  objects  that  were  near  at  hand,  lost  its  un- 
folding power  or  vigor  a  short  distance  beyond.  I  would 
compare  the  effect  to  that  of  a  bright  light  shining 
through  a  dense  fog,  were  it  not  that  the  medium  about 
us  was  transparent — not  milky.  The  light  shrunk  into 
nothingness.  It  passed  from  existence  behind  and  about 
me  as  if  it  were  annihilated,  without  wasting  away  in  the 
opalescent  appearance  once  familiar  as  that  of  a  spread- 
ing fog.  Moreover,  it  seemed  to  bring  into  detail  such 
objects  as  were  within  the  compass  of  a  certain  area  close 
about  me,  but  to  lose  in  intensity  beyond.  The  buttons 
on  my  coat  appeared  as  distinct  as  they  ever  did  when  I 
stood  in  the  sunlight,  and  fully  one-half  larger  than  I 
formerly  knew  them  to  be.  The  corrugations  on  the 
palms  of  my  hands  stood  out  in  bold  serpentine  relief  that 
I  observed  clearly  when  I  held  my  hands  near  my  eye, 
my  fingers  appeared  clumsy,  and  all  parts  of  my  person 
were  magnified  in  proportion.  The  region  at  the  limits  of 
my  range  of  perception  reminded  me  of  nothingness,  but 
not  of  darkness.  A  circle  of  obliteration  defined  the 
border  of  the  luminous  belt  which  advanced  as  we  pro- 


1 06  Etidorhpa 

ceeded,  and  closed  in  behind  us.  This  line,  or  rather 
zone  of  demarcation,  that  separated  the  seen  from  the  un- 
seen appeared  to  be  about  two  hundred  feet  away,  but  it 
might  have  been  more  or  less,  as  I  had  no  method  of 
measuring  distances. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE   FUNGUS   FOREST. ENCHANTMENT. 

Along  the  chamber  through  which  we  now  passed  I 
saw  by  the  mellow  light  great  pillars,  capped  with  um- 
brella-like covers,  some  of  them  reminding  me  of  the 
common  toadstool  of  upper  earth,  on  a  magnificent  scale. 
Instead,  however,  of  the  gray  or  sombre  shades  to  which 
I  had  been  accustomed,  these  objects  were  of  various  hues 
and  combined  the  brilliancy  of  the  primary  prismatic 
colors  with  the  purity  of  clean  snow.  Now  they  would 
stand  solitary,  like  gigantic  sentinels ;  again  they  would 
be  arranged  in  rows,  the  alignment  as  true  as  if  estab- 
lished by  the  hair  of  a  transit,  forming  columnar  ave- 
nues, and  in  other  situations  they  were  wedged  together 
so  as  to  produce  masses,  acres  in  extent,  in  which  the 
stems  became  hexagonal  by  compression.  The  columnar 
stems,  larger  than  my  body,  were  often  spiral ;  again  they 
were  marked  with  diamond-shaped  figures,  or  other 
regular  geometrical  forms  in  relief,  beautifully  exact, 
drawn  as  by  a  master's  hand  in  rich  and  delicately 
blended  colors,  on  pillars  of  pure  alabaster.  Not  a  few 
of  the  stems  showed  deep  crimson,  blue,  or  green,  to- 
gether with  other  rich  colors  combined ;  over  which,  as 
delicate  as  the  rarest  of  lace,  would  be  thrown,  in  white, 
an  enamel-like  intricate  tracery,  far  surpassing  in  beauty 
of  execution  the  most  exquisite  needle-work  I  had  ever 
seen.  There  could  be  no  doubt  that  I  was  in  a  forest  of 
colossal  fungi,  the  species  of  which  are  more  numerous 
than  those  of  upper  earth  cryptogamtic  vegetation.  The 
expanded  heads  of  these  great  thallogens  were  as  varied 
as  the  stems  I  have  described,  and  more  so.  Far  above 
our  path  they  spread  like  beautiful  umbrellas,  decorated 
as  if  by  masters,  from  whom  the  great  painters  of  upper 


io8  Etidorhpa 

earth  might  humbly  learn  the  art  of  mixing  colors.  Their 
under  surfaces  were  of  many  dififerent  designs,  and  were 
of  as  many  shapes  as  it  is  conceivable  could  be  made  of 
combinations  of  the  circle  and  hyperbola.  Stately  and 
picturesque,  silent  and  immovable  as  the  sphinx,  they 
studded  the  great  cavern  singly  or  in  groups,  reminding 
me  of  a  grown  child's  wild  imagination  of  fairyland.  I 
stopped  beside  a  group  that  was  of  unusual  conspicuity 
and  gazed  in  admiration  on  the  huge  and  yet  graceful, 
beautiful  spectacle.  I  placed  my  hand  on  the  stem  of  one 
plant,  and  found  it  soft  and  impressible ;  but  instead  of 
being  moist,  cold,  and  clammy  as  the  repulsive  toadstool 
of  upper  earth,  I  discovered,  to  my  surprise,  that  it  was 
pleasantly  warm,  and  soft  as  velvet. 

"Smell  your  hand,"  said  my  guide. 

I  did  so,  and  breathed  in  an  aroma  like  that  of  fresh 
strawberries. 

"Try  the  next  one,"  he  said. 

This  being  of  a  dififerent  species,  when  rubbed  by  my 
hand  exhaled  the  odor  of  the  pineapple. 

"Extraordinary,"  I  mused. 

"Not  at  all.  Should  productions  of  surface  earth  have 
a  monopoly  of  nature's  methods,  all  the  flavors,  all  the 
perfumes?  You  may  with  equal  consistency  express 
astonishment  at  the  odors  of  the  fruits  of  upper  earth  if 
you  do  so  at  the  fragrance  of  these  vegetables,  for  they 
are  also  created  of  odorless  elements." 

"But  toadstools  are  foul  structures  of  low  organ- 
ization. They  are  neither  animals  nor  true  vegetables, 
but  occupy  a  station  below  that  of  plants  proper,  flower- 
ing plants  I  mean." 

"You  are  acquainted  with  this  order  of  vegetation  un- 
der the  most  unfavorable  conditions ;  out  of  their  native 
elements  these  plants  degenerate  and  become  then  abnor- 
mal, often  evolving  into  the  poisonous  earth  fungi  known 
to  your  woods  and  fields.  Here  they  grow  to  perfection. 
This  is  their  chosen  habitat.  They  absorb  from  a  pure 
atmosphere  the  combined  foods  of  plants  and  animals. 


I    AVAS    1\    A    FORKSr    i)F    COLOSSAL    FUN(;L 


The  Fungus  Forest  109 

and  during  their  existence  meet  no  scorching  sunrise. 
They  flourish  in  a  region  of  perfect  tranquilhty,  and  with- 
out a  tremor,  without  experiencing  the  change  of  a 
fraction  of  a  degree  in  temperature,  exist  for  ages. 
Many  of  these  specimens  are  probably  thousands  of 
years  old,  and  are  still  growing;  why  should  they  ever 
die  ?  They  have  never  been  disturbed  by  a  breath  of  mov- 
ing air,  and,  balanced  exactly  on  their  succulent,  pedestal- 
like stems,  surrounded  by  an  atmosphere  of  dead  nitro- 
gen, vapor,  and  other  gases,  with  their  roots  imbedded 
in  carbonates  and  minerals,  they  have  food  at  command, 
nutrition  inexhaustible." 

"Still  I  do  not  see  why  they  grow  to  such  mammoth 
proportions." 

"Plants  adapt  themselves  to  surrounding  conditions," 
he  remarked.  "The  oak  tree  in  its  proper  latitude  is  tall 
and  stately ;  trace  it  toward  the  Arctic  circle,  and  it  be- 
comes knotted,  gnarled,  rheumatic,  and  finally  dwindles 
to  a  shrub.  The  castor  plant  in  the  tropics  is  twenty  or 
thirty  feet  in  height,  in  the  temperate  zone  it  is  an  her- 
baceous plant,  farther  north  it  has  no  existence.  Indian 
corn  in  Kentucky  is  luxuriant,  tall,  and  graceful,  and 
each  stalk  is  supplied  with  roots  to  the  second  and  third 
joint,  while  in  the  northland  it  scarcely  reaches  to  the 
shoulder  of  a  man,  and,  in  order  to  escape  the  early 
northern  frost,  arrives  at  maturity  before  the  more  south- 
ern variety  begins  to  tassel.  The  common  jimson  weed 
(datura  stramonium) ,  planted  in  early  spring,  in  rich  soil, 
grows  luxuriantly,  covers  a  broad  expanse  and  bears  an 
abundance  of  fruit ;  planted  in  midsummer  it  blossoms 
when  but  a  few  inches  in  height,  and  between  two 
terminal  leaves  hastens  to  produce  a  single  capsule  on  the 
apex  of  the  short  stem,  in  order  to  ripen  its  seed  before 
the  frost  appears.  These  and  other  familiar  examples 
might  be  cited  concerning  the  difference  some  species  of 
vegetation  of  your  former  lands  undergo  under  climatic 
conditions  less  marked  than  between  those  that  govern 
the  growth  of  fungi  here  and  on  surface  earth.     Such 


iio  Etidorhpa 

specimens  of  fungi  as  grow  in  your  former  home  have 
escaped  from  these  underground  regions,  and  are  as 
much  out  of  place  as  are  the  tropical  plants  transplanted 
to  the  edge  of  eternal  snow.  Indeed,  more  so,  for  on  the 
earth  the  ordinary  fungus,  as  a  rule,  germinates  after  sun- 
set, and  often  dies  when  the  sun  rises,  while  here  they 
may  grow  in  peace  eternally.  These  meandering  caverns 
comprise  thousands  of  miles  of  surface  covered  by  these 
growths  which  shall  yet  fulfil  a  grand  purpose  in  the 
economy  of  nature,  for  they  are  destined  to  feed  tramping 
multitudes  when  the  day  appears  in  which  the  nations  of 
men  united  into  one  brotherhood  will  desert  the  surface 
of  the  earth  and  pass  as  a  single  people  through  these 
caverns  on  their  way  to  the  immaculate  existence  to  be 
found  in  the  inner  sphere." 

"I  cannot  disprove  your  statement,"  I  again  repeated; 
"neither  do  I  accept  it.  However,  it  still  seems  to  me  un- 
natural to  find  such  delicious  flavors  and  delicate  odors 
connected  with  objects  associated  with  insipid  things,  or 
substances  as  disagreeable  as  toadstools  and  the  rank 
forest  fungi  which  I  abhorred  on  earth." 

Then,  as  he  had  done  before  when  the  subject  of  vital- 
ized darkness  confronted  us,  the  guide  entered  into  a 
discussion  concerning  the  foods  of  man,  after  which  we 
again  resumed  our  journey. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE     CRY     FROM     A     DISTANCE. 1     REBEL     AGAINST     CON- 
TINUING THE  JOURNEY. 

As  we  paced  along  I  became  more  sensibly  impressed 
with  the  fact  that  our  progress  was  down  a  rapid  dec- 
lination. The  saline  incrustations,  fungi  and  stalagmites 
rapidly  changed  in  appearance,  an  endless  variety  of 
stony  figures  and  vegetable  cryptogams  recurring  suc- 
cessively before  my  eyes.  They  bore  the  shape  of  trees, 
shrubs,  or  animals,  fixed  and  silent  as  statues ;  at  least  in 
my  distorted  condition  of  mind  I  could  make  out  re- 
semblances to  many  such  familiar  objects ;  the  floor  of 
the  cavern  became  increasingly  steeper,  as  was  shown  by 
the  stalactites,  which,  hanging  here  and  there  from  the 
invisible  ceiling,  made  a  decided  angle  with  the  floor, 
corresponding  with  a  similar  angle  of  the  stalagmites  be- 
low. Like  an  accompanying  and  encircling  halo,  the  ever- 
present  earth-light  enveloped  us,  opening  in  front  as  we 
advanced  and  vanishing  in  the  rear.  The  sound  of  our 
footsteps  gave  back  a  peculiar,  indescribable  hollow  echo, 
and  our  voices  sounded  ghost-like  and  unearthly,  as  if 
their  origin  was  outside  of  our  bodies,  and  at  a  distance. 
The  peculiar  resonance  reminded  me  of  noises  reverberat- 
ing in  an  empty  cask  or  cistern.  I  was  oppressed  by  an 
indescribable  feeling  of  mystery  and  awe  that  grew  deep 
and  intense,  until  at  last  I  could  no  longer  bear  the  mental 
strain. 

"Hold,  hold,"  I  shouted,  or  tried  to  shout,  and  stopped 
suddenly,  for  although  I  had  cried  aloud,  no  sound 
escaped  my  lips.  Then  from  a  distance — could  I  believe 
my  senses? — from  a  distance  as  an  echo,  the  cry  came 
back  in  the  tones  of  my  own  voice,  "Hold,  hold." 

"Speak  lower,"  said  my  guide,  "speak  very  low,  for 


1 1  2  Etidorhpa 

now  an  effort  such  as  you  have  made  projects  your  voice 
far  outside  your  body ;  the  greater  the  exertion  the  farther 
away  it  appears." 

I  grasped  him  by  the  arm  and  said  slowly,  determinedly, 
and  in  a  suppressed  tone :  "I  have  come  far  enough  into 
the  secret  caverns  of  the  earth,  without  knowing  our 
destination;  acquaint  me  now  with  the  object  of  this 
mysterious  journey,  I  demand,  and  at  once  relieve  this 
sense  of  uncertainty ;  otherwise  I  shall  go  no  farther." 

"You  are  to  proceed  to  the  Sphere  of  Rest  with  me," 
he  replied,  "and  in  safety.  Beyond  that  an  Unknown 
Country  lies,  into  which  I  have  never  ventured." 

"You  speak  in  enigmas ;  what  is  this  Sphere  of  Rest  ? 
Where  is  it?" 

"Your  eyes  have  never  seen  anything  similar ;  human 
philosophy  has  no  conception  of  it,  and  I  cannot  de- 
scribe it,"  he  said.  "It  is  located  in  the  body  of  the  earth, 
and  we  will  meet  it  about  one  thousand  miles  beyond  the 
North  Pole." 

"But  I  am  in  Kentucky,"  I  replied;  "do  you  think  that 
I  propose  to  walk  to  the  North  Pole,  man — if  man  you  be ; 
that  unreached  goal  is  thousands  of  miles  away." 

"True,"  he  answered,  "as  you  measure  distance  on  the 
surface  of  the  earth,  you  could  not  walk  it  in  years  of 
time ;  but  you  are  now  twenty-five  miles  below  the  sur- 
face, and  you  must  be  aware  that  instead  of  becoming 
more  weary  as  we  proceed,  you  are  now  and  have  for 
some  time  been  gaining  strength.  I  would  also  call  to 
your  attention  that  you  neither  hunger  nor  thirst." 

"Proceed,"  I  said,  "  'tis  useless  to  rebel ;  I  am  wholly 
in  your  power,"  and  we  resumed  our  journey,  and  rapidly 
went  forward  amid  silences  that  were  to  me  painful  be- 
yond description.  Next  we  abruptly  entered  a  cavern 
of  crystal,  every  portion  of  which  was  of  sparkling  bril- 
liancy, and  as  white  as  snow.  The  stalactites,  stalagmites 
and  fungi  now  disappeared.  I  picked  up  a  fragment  of 
the  bright  material,  tasted  it,  and  found  that  it  resembled 
pure  salt.    Monstrous,  cubical  crystals,  a  foot  or  more  in 


MONSTRULS    dKICAl,    CRYSTALS. 


The  Cry  From  a  Distance  113 

diameter,  stood  out  in  bold  relief,  accumulations  of  them, 
as  conglomerated  masses,  banked  up  here  and  there,  mak- 
ing parts  of  great  columnar  cliffs,  while  in  other 
formations  the  crystals  were  small,  resembling  in  the 
aggregate  masses  of  white  sandstone. 

"Is  not  this  salt?"  I  asked. 

"Yes ;  we  are  now  in  the  dried  bed  of  an  underground 
lake." 

"Dried  bed?"  I  exclaimed;  "a  body  of  water  sealed  in 
the  earth  cannot  evaporate." 

"It  has  not  evaporated ;  at  some  remote  period  the 
water  has  been  abstracted  from  the  salt,  and  probably  has 
escaped  upon  the  surface  of  the  earth  as  a  fresh  water 
spring." 

"You  contradict  all  laws  of  hydrostatics,  as  I  under- 
stand that  subject,"  I  replied,  "when  you  speak  of 
abstracting  water  from  a  dissolved  substance  that  is  part 
of  a  liquid,  and  thus  leaving  the  solids." 

"Nevertheless  this  is  a  constant  act  of  Nature,"  said 
he  ;  "how  else  can  you  rationally  account  for  the  great  salt 
beds  and  other  deposits  of  saline  materials  that  exist 
hermetically  sealed  beneath  the  earth's  surface?" 

"I  will  confess  that  I  have  not  given  the  subject  much 
thought ;  I  simply  accept  the  usual  explanation  to  the 
effect  that  salty  seas  have  lost  their  water  by  evaporation, 
and  afterward  the  salt  formations,  by  some  convulsions  of 
Nature,  have  been  covered  with  earth,  perhaps  sinking 
by  earthquake  convulsions  bodily  into  the  earth." 

"These  explanations  are  examples  of  some  of  the 
erroneous  views  of  scientific  writers,"  he  replied ;  "they 
are  true  only  to  a  limited  extent.  The  great  beds  of  salt, 
deep  in  the  earth,  are  usually  accumulations  left  there  by 
water  that  was  drawn  from  brine  lakes,  from  which  the 
liberated  water  often  escaped  as  pure  spring  water  at  the 
surface  of  the  earth.  It  does  not  escape  by  evaporation, 
at  least  not  until  it  reaches  the  earth's  surface." 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

MY  UNBIDDEN   GUEST,   I-AM-THE-MAN,   PROVES   HIS   STATE- 
MENT  AND   REFUTES    MY    PHILOSOPHY. 

Let  the  reader  who  has  followed  this  strange  story 
which  I  am  directed  to  title  "The  End  of  Earth,"  and 
who,  in  imagination,  has  traversed  the  cavernous  pas- 
sages of  the  underworld  and  listened  to  the  conversation 
of  those  two  personages  who  journeyed  toward  the 
secrets  of  the  Beyond,  return  now  to  upper  earth,  and 
once  more  enter  my  secluded  lodgings,  the  home  of 
Llewellyn  Drury,  him  who  listened  to  the  aged  guest  and 
who  claims  your  present  attention.  Remember  that  I  re- 
late a  story  within  a  story.  That  importunate  guest  of 
mine,  of  the  glittering  knife  and  the  silvery  hair,  like  an- 
other Ancient  Mariner,  had  constrained  me  to  listen  to  his 
narrative,  as  he  read  it  aloud  to  me  from  the  manuscript. 
I  patiently  heard  chapter  after  chapter,  generally  with 
pleasure,  often  with  surprise,  sometimes  with  incredulity, 
or  downright  dissent.  Much  of  the  narrative,  I  must  say 
— yes,  most  of  it,  appeared  possible,  if  not  probable,  as 
taken  in  its  connected  sequence.  The  marvels  of  the 
fungus  groves,  the  properties  of  the  inner  light,  I  was  not 
disinclined  to  accept  as  true  to  natural  laws ;  but  when 
The-Man-Who-Did-It  came  to  tell  of  the  intra-earth  salt 
deposits,  and  to  explain  the  cause  of  the  disappearance  of 
lakes  that  formerly  existed  underground,  and  their 
simultaneous  replacement  by  beds  of  salt,  my  credulity 
was  overstrained. 

"Permit  me  to  interrupt  your  narrative,"  I  remarked, 
and  then  in  response  to  my  request  the  venerable  guest 
laid  down  his  paper. 

"Well  ?"  he  said,  interrogatively. 


My  Unbidden  Guest  1 1 5 

"I  do  not  believe  that  last  statement  concerning  the 
salt  lake,  and,  to  speak  plainly,  I  would  not  have  acquiesced 
as  you  did,  even  had  I  been  in  your  situation." 

"To  what  do  you  allude?"  he  asked. 

"The  physical  abstraction  of  water  from  the  salt  of  a 
solution  of  salt ;  I  do  not  believe  it  possible  unless  by 
evaporation  of  the  water." 

"You  seem  to  accept  as  conclusive  the  statements  of 
men  who  have  never  investigated  beneath  the  surface  in 
these  directions,  and  you  question  the  evidence  of  a  man 
who  has  seen  the  phenomenon.  I  presume  you  accept  the 
prevailing  notions  about  salt  beds,  as  you  do  the  assertion 
that  liquids  seek  a  common  level,  which  your  scientific 
authorities  also  teach  as  a  law  of  Nature  ?" 

"Yes ;  I  do  believe  that  liquids  seek  a  common  level, 
and  I  am  willing  to  credit  your  other  improbable  state- 
ments if  you  can  demonstrate  the  principle  of  liquid 
equilibrium  to  be  untrue." 

"Then,"  said  he,  "to-morrow  evening  I  will  show  you 
that  fluids  seek  different  levels,  and  also  explain  to  you 
how  liquids  may  leave  the  solids  they  hold  in  solution 
without  evaporating  from  them." 

He  arose  and  abruptly  departed.  It  was  near  morning, 
and  yet  I  sat  in  my  room  alone  pondering  the  story  of  my 
unique  guest  until  I  slept  to  dream  of  caverns  and  seances 
until  daylight,  when  I  was  awakened  by  their  vividness. 
The  fire  was  out,  the  room  was  cold,  and,  shivering  in 
nervous  exhaustion,  I  crept  into  bed  to  sleep  and  dream 
again  of  horrible  things  I  cannot  describe,  but  which 
made  me  shudder  in  affright  at  their  recollection.  Late 
in  the  day  I  awoke. 

The  next  evening  my  self-imposed  visitor  appeared 
early,  and  by  means  of  a  series  of  experiments  proceeded 
to  demonstrate  the  correctness  of  his  assertions.  He  em- 
ployed the  simplest  of  apparatus,  which  consisted  only 
of  a  few  glass  tubes  and  strips  of  blotting-paper.  After 
I  had  been  silenced,  as  unconcerned  as  had  been  his 
previous  deportment,  he  took  his  manuscript  and  con- 


1 1 6  Etidorhpa 

tinued  to  read  in  a  clear,  steady  voice,  while  I  sat  a  more 
contented  listener  than  I  had  been  previously.  I  was  not 
only  confuted,  but  convinced.  And  I  recalled  a  saying 
of  Socrates,  that  no  better  fortune  can  happen  a  man 
than  to  be  confuted  in  an  error. 


CHAPTER    XX. 


MY  WEIGHT  DISAPPEARING. 


We  halted  suddenly,  for  we  came  unexpectedly  to  the 
edge  of  a  precipice,  twenty  feet  at  least  in  depth. 

■'Let  us  jump  down,"  said  my  guide. 

"That  would  be  dangerous,"  I  answered ;  "can  we  not 
descend  at  some  point  where  it  is  not  so  deep?" 

"No;  the  chasm  stretches  for  miles  across  our  path, 
and  at  this  point  we  shall  meet  with  the  least  difficulty ; 
besides,  there  is  no  danger.  The  specific  gravity  of  our 
bodies  is  now  so  little  that  we  could  jump  twice  that 
distance  with  impunity." 

"I  cannot  comprehend  you;  we  are  in  the  flesh,  our 
bodies  are  possessed  of  weight,  the  concussion  will  be 
violent." 

"You  reason  again  from  the  condition  of  your  former 
life,  and,  as  usual,  are  mistaken ;  there  will  be  little  shock, 
for,  as  I  have  said,  our  bodies  are  comparatively  light 
now.  Have  you  forgotten  that  your  motion  is  continuously 
accelerated,  and  that  without  perceptible  exertion  you 
move  rapidly?  This  is  partly  because  of  the  loss  of 
weight.  Your  weight  would  now  be  only  about  fifty 
pounds  if  tested  by  a  spring  balance." 

I  stood  incredulous. 

"You  trifle  with  me ;  I  weigh  over  one  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds ;  how  have  I  lost  weight  ?  It  is  true  that  I 
have  noticed  the  ease  with  which  we  have  recently  pro- 
gressed on  our  journey,  especially  the  latter  part  of  it,  but 
I  attribute  this,  in  part,  to  the  fact  that  our  course  is 
down  an  incline,  and  also  to  the  vitalizing  power  of  this 
cavern  air." 

"This  explains  part  of  the  matter,"  he  said;  "it  an- 


ii8 


Etidorhpa 


swered  at  the  time,  and  I  stated  a  fact ;  but  were  it  not 
that  you  are  really  consuming  a    comparatively  small 


h.. Mmi 


(  Jw,/  ^^^ 


>II   ;( 


"^r^ 


je^ 


I   BOUNDED   UPWARD   FULLY   SIX   FEET. 


amount  of  energy,  you  would  long  before  this  have  been 
completely  exhausted.  You  have  been  gaining  strength 
for    some   hours ;    have    really    been    growing    younger. 


My  Weight  Disappearing  119 

Your  wrinkled  face  has  become  more  smooth,  and  your 
voice  is  again  natural.  You  were  prematurely  aged  by 
your  brothers  on  the  surface  of  the  earth  in  order  that, 
when  you  pass  the  line  of  gravity,  you  might  be  vigorous 
and  enjoying  manhood  again.  Had  this  aging  process 
not  been  accomplished  you  would  now  have  become  as  a 
child  in  many  respects." 

He  halted  before  me.  "Jump  up,"  he  said.  I  promptly 
obeyed  the  unexpected  command,  and  sprang  upward 
with  sufficient  force  to  carry  me,  as  I  supposed,  six 
inches  from  the  earth ;  however,  I  bounded  upward  fully 
six  feet.  My  look  of  surprise  as  I  gently  alighted,  for 
there  was  no  concussion  on  my  return,  seemed  lost  on 
my  guide,  and  he  quietly  said : 

"If  you  can  leap  six  feet  upward  without  excessive 
exertion  or  return  shock,  cannot  you  jump  twenty  feet 
down?    Look!" 

And  he  leaped  lightly  over  the  precipice  and  stood  un- 
harmed on  the  stony  floor  below. 

Even  then  I  hesitated,  observing  which,  he  cried : 

"Hang  by  your  hands  from  the  edge  then,  and  drop." 

I  did  so,  and  the  fourteen  feet  of  fall  seemed  to  afifect 
me  as  though  I  had  become  as  light  as  cork.  I  fluttered 
to  the  earth  as  a  leaf  would  fall,  and  leaned  against  the 
precipice  in  surprised  meditation. 

"Others  have  been  through  your  experience,"  he  re- 
marked, "and  I  therefore  can  overlook  your  incredulity ; 
but  experiences  such  as  you  now  meet  remove  distrust. 
Doing  is  believing."    He  smiled  benignantly. 

I  pondered,  revolving  in  my  mind  the  fact  that  per- 
sons had,  in  mental  abstraction,  passed  through  unusual 
experiences  in  ignorance  of  conditions  about  them,  until 
their  attention  had  been  called  to  the  seen  and  yet  un- 
noticed surroundings,  and  they  had  then  beheld  the  facts 
plainly.  The  puzzle  picture  stares  the  eye  and  impresses 
the  retina,  but  is  devoid  of  character  until  the  hidden 
form  is  developed  in  the  mind,  and  then  that  form  is 
always  prominent  to  the  eye.    My  remarkably  light  step. 


I  20 


Etidorhpa 


now  that  my  attention  had  been  directed  thereto,   was 
constantly  in  my   mind,  and   I   found   myself  suddenly 


WE  LEAPED  OVER  GREAT  INEQUALITIES, 


possessed  of  the  strength  of  a  man,  but  with  the  weight 
of  an  infant.  I  raised  my  feet  without  an  effort ;  they 
seemed  destitute  of  weight ;  I  leaped  about,  tumbled,  and 


My  Weight  Disappearing  i2i 

rolled  over  and  over  on  the  smooth  stone  floor  without 
injury.  It  appeared  that  I  had  become  the  airy  similitude 
of  my  former  self,  my  material  substance  having  wasted 
away  without  a  corresponding  impairment  of  strength. 
I  pinched  my  flesh  to  be  assured  that  all  was  not  a  dream, 
and  then  endeavored  to  convince  myself  that  I  was  the 
victim  of  delirium ;  but  in  vain.  Too  sternly  my  self- 
existence  confronted  me  as  a  reality,  a  cruel  reality.  A 
species  of  intoxication  possessed  me  once  more,  and  I 
now  hoped  for  the  end,  whatever  it  might  be.  We  re- 
sumed our  journey,  and  rushed  on  with  increasing  rapid- 
ity, galloping  hand  in  hand,  down,  down,  ever  down- 
ward into  the  illuminated  crevice  of  the  earth.  The 
spectral  light  by  which  we  were  aureoled  increased  in 
intensity,  as  by  arithmetical  progression,  and  I  could 
now  distinguish  objects  at  a  considerable  distance  before 
us.  My  spirits  rose  as  if  I  were  under  the  influence  of  a 
potent  stimulant ;  a  liveliness  that  was  the  opposite  of 
my  recent  despondency  had  gained  control,  and  I  was 
again  possessed  of  a  delicious  mental  sensation,  to  which 
I  can  only  refer  as  a  most  rapturous  exhilaration.  My 
guide  grasped  my  hand  firmly,  and  his  touch,  instead 
of  revolting  me  as  formerly  it  had  done,  gave  pleasure. 
We  together  leaped  over  great  inequalities  in  the  floor, 
performing  these  aerial  feats  almost  as  easily  as  a  bird 
flies.  Indeed,  I  felt  that  I  possessed  the  power  of  flight, 
for  we  bounded  fearlessly  down  great  declivities  and  over 
abysses  that  were  often  perpendicular  and  many  times 
our  height.  A  very  slight  muscular  exertion  was  suffi- 
cient to  carry  us  rods  of  distance,  and,  almost  tiptoeing, 
we  skimmed  with  ever  increasing  speed  down  the 
steeps  of  that  unknown  declivity.  At  length  my  guide 
held  back ;  we  gradually  lessened  our  velocity,  and  after 
a  time  rested  confronted  by  a  horizontal  substance  which 
lay  before  us,  apparently  a  sheet  of  glass,  rigid,  immov- 
able, immeasurably  great,  that  stretched  as  a  level  sur- 
face before  us,  vividly  distinct  in  the  brightness  of  an 


122  Etidorhpa 

earth  light,  that  now  proved  to  be  superior  to  sunshine. 
Far  as  the  eye  could  reach  the  glassy  barrier  to  our 
further  progress  spread  as  a  crystal  mirror  in  front,  and, 
vanishing  in  the  distance,  shut  off  the  beyond. 


KAK    AS    •I'lII".    KYK    (Dri.l)    KKAi   li      I  H I-,    i,l,\>>\     l;AKKll'k    M'KI'.AI)    AS    A. 
I   KVSTAI,    MIKKoR." 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

MY  UNBIDDEN  GUEST  DEPARTS. 

Once  more  I  must  presume  to  interrupt  this  narrative 
and  call  back  the  reader's  thoughts  from  those  mysterious 
caverns  through  which  we  have  been  tracing  the  rapid 
footsteps  of  the  man  who  was  abducted,  and  his  uncouth 
pilot  of  the  lower  realms.  Let  us  now  see  and  hear  what 
took  place  in  my  room,  in  Cincinnati,  just  after  my  visitor, 
known  to  us  as  The-Man-Who-Did-It,  had  finished  read- 
ing to  me,  Llewellyn  Drury,  the  custodian  of  this  manu- 
script, the  curious  chapter  relating  how  the  underground 
explorers  lost  weight  as  they  descended  in  the  hollows  of 
the  earth,  and  how  at  length  they  were  confronted  by  the 
strange  barrier  that  appeared  before  them.  My  French 
clock  struck  twelve  of  its  clear  silvery  notes  before  the 
gray-bearded  reader  finished  his  stint  for  the  occasion, 
and  folded  his  manuscript  preparatory  to  placing  it  within 
his  bosom. 

"It  is  past  midnight,"  he  said,  "and  it  is  time  for  me 
to  depart ;  but  I  will  come  to  you  again  within  a  year. 

"Meanwhile,  during  my  absence,  search  the  records, 
question  authorities,  and  note  such  objections  as  rise 
therefrom  concerning  the  statements  I  have  made. 
Establish  or  disprove  historically  or  scientifically  any 
portion  of  the  life  history  that  I  have  given,  and  when  I 
return  I  will  hear  what  you  have  to  say,  and  meet  your 
argument.  If  there  is  a  doubt  concerning  the  authenticity 
of  any  part  of  the  history,  investigate ;  but  make  no 
mention  to  others  of  the  details  of  our  meetings." 

I  sat  some  time  in  thought,  then  said :  "I  decline  to  con- 
cern myself  in  verifying  the  historical  part  of  your  nar- 
rative. The  localities  you  mention  may  be  true  to  name, 
and  it  is  possible  that  you  have  related  a  personal  history ; 


1 24  Etidorhpa 

but  I  cannot  perceive  that  I  am  interested  in  either  prov- 
ing or  disproving  it.  I  will  say,  however,  that  it  does 
not  seem  probable  that  at  any  time  a  man  can  disappear 
from  a  community,  as  you  claim  to  have  done,  and  be  the 
means  of  creating  a  commotion  in  his  neighborhood  that 
affected  political  parties,  or  even  led  to  an  unusual  local 
excitement,  outside  his  immediate  circle  of  acquaintances, 
for  a  man  is  not  of  sufificient  importance  unless  he  is  very 
conspicuous.  By  your  own  admission,  you  were  simply 
a  studious  mechanic,  a  credulous  believer  in  alchemistic 
vagaries,  and  as  I  revolve  the  matter  over,  I  am  afraid 
that  you  are  now  trying  to  impose  on  my  credulity.  The 
story  of  a  forcible  abduction,  in  the  manner  you  related, 
seems  to  me  incredible,  and  not  worthy  of  investigation, 
even  had  I  the  inclination  to  concern  myself  in  your  per- 
sonal affairs.  The  statements,  however,  that  you  make 
regarding  the  nature  of  the  crust  of  the  earth,  gravitation, 
light,  instinct,  and  human  senses  are  highly  interesting, 
and  even  plausible  as  you  artfully  present  the  subjects, 
I  candidly  admit,  and  I  shall  take  some  pains  to  make  in- 
quiries concerning  the  recorded  researches  of  experts  who 
have  investigated  in  that  direction." 

"Collect  your  evidence,"  said  he,  "that  I  may  listen  to 
your  views  when  I  return." 

He  opened  the  door,  glided  away,  and  again  I  was 
alone. 

But  he  did  not  return  the  next  night,  nor  yet  the  next, 
nor  yet  the  week  nor  the  month  following.  However,  I 
spared  no  pains  to  collect  evidence  to  use  in  refuting  his 
arguments,  consulting  conspicuous  scientists,  even  Pro- 
fessor Daniel  Vaughn,  but  to  no  efifect.  Let  us  then  pass 
to  the  next  interview  in  which,  one  year  thereafter,  I-Am- 
The-Man  appears. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE    MOTHER    OF    A    VOLCANO. — "yOU    CANNOT    DISPROVE, 
AND   YOU    DARE   NOT   ADMIT." 

A  YEAR  from  the  evening  of  the  departure  of  the  old 
man  found  me  in  my  room,  and  I  was  not  surprised  when 
he  opened  the  door,  and  seated  himself  in  his  accustomed 
chair. 

'Are  you  ready  to  challenge  my  statements?"  he 
asked,  taking  up  the  subject  as  though  our  conversation 
had  not  been  interrupted. 

"No." 

"Do  you  accept  my  history?" 

"No." 

"You  cannot  disprove,  and  you  dare  not  admit.  You 
have  failed  in  every  endeavor  to  discredit  the  truth,  and 
your  would-be  scientists,  much  as  they  would  like  to  do 
so,  cannot  serve  you.  Now  we  will  continue  the  narra- 
tive, and  I  shall  await  your  next  attempt  to  cast  a  shadow 
over  the  facts." 

Then  with  his  usual  pleasant  smile  he  read  from  his 
manuscript  a  continuation  of  the  intra-earth  journey  as 
follows : 

"Be  seated,"  said  my  eyeless  guide,  "and  let  me  explain 
some  facts  that  may  prove  of  interest  in  connection  with 
the  nature  of  the  superficial  crust  of  the  earth.  This 
crystal  liquid  spreading  before  us  is  a  placid  sheet  of 
'.vater,  and  is  the  feeder  of  the  volcano  Mount  Epomeo." 

"Can  that  be  a  surface  of  water?"  I  interrogated.  "I 
tind  it  difficult  to  realize  that  water  can  be  so  immovable. 
I  supposed  the  substance  before  us  to  be  a  rigid  material, 
like  glass,  perhaps." 

"There  is  no  wind  to  ruffle  this  aqueous  surface — why 
should  it  not  be  quiescent?     This  is  the  only  perfectly 


126  Etidorhpa 

smooth  sheet  of  water  that  you  have  ever  seen.  It  is  in 
absolute  rest,  and  thus  appears  a  rigid  level  plane." 

"Grant  that  your  explanation  is  correct,"  I  said,  "yet  I 
cannot  understand  how  a  quiet  lake  of  water  can  give 
rise  to  a  convulsion  such  as  the  eruption  of  a  volcano." 

"Not  only  is  this  possible,"  he  responded,  "but  water 
usually  causes  the  exhibition  of  phenomena  known  as 
volcanic  action.  The  Island  of  Ischia,  in  which  the 
volcanic  crater  Epomeo  is  situated,  is  connected  by  a  tor- 
tuous crevice  with  the  peaceful  pool  by  which  we  now 
stand,  and  at  periods,  separated  by  great  intervals  of  time, 
the  lake  is  partly  emptied  by  a  simple  natural  process, 
and  a  part  of  its  water  is  expelled  above  the  earth's  sur- 
face in  the  form  of  superheated  steam,  which  escapes 
through  that  distant  crater." 

"But  I  see  no  evidence  of  heat  or  even  motion  of  anv 
kind." 

"Not  here,"  he  replied;  "in  this  place  there  is  none. 
The  energy  is  developed  thousands  of  miles  away,  but 
since  the  phenomena  of  volcanic  action  are  to  be  partially 
explained  to  you  at  a  future  day,  I  will  leave  that  matter 
for  the  present.     We  shall  cross  this  lake." 

I  observed  as  we  walked  along  its  edge  that  the  shore 
of  the  lake  which  precipitous  in  places,  again  formed  a 
gradually  descending  beach,  and  the  dead  silence  of  the 
space  about  us,  in  connection  with  the  death-like  stillness 
of  that  rigid  mass  of  water  and  its  surroundings,  became 
increasingly  impressive  and  awe-inspiring.  Never  before 
had  I  seen  such  a  perfectly  quiet  glass-like  surface.  Not 
a  vibration  or  undulation  appeared  in  any  direction.  The 
solidity  of  steel  was  exemplified  in  its  steady,  apparently 
inflexible  contour,  and  yet  the  pure  element  was  so  trans- 
parent that  the  bottom  of  the  pool  was  as  clearly  defined 
as  the  top  of  the  cavern  above  me.  The  lights  and  shades 
of  the  familiar  lakes  of  Western  New  York  were  wanting 
here,  and  it  suddenly  came  to  my  mind  that  there  were 
surface  reflections,  but  no  shadows,  and  musing  on  this 
extraordinary  fact,  I  stood  motionless  on  a  jutting  cliflF 


The  Mother  of  a  Volcano  i  27 

absorbed  in  meditation,  abstractedly  gazing  down  into 
that  transparent  depth.  Without  sun  or  moon,  without 
apparent  source  of  light,  and  yet  perfectly  illuminated, 
the  lofty  caverns  seemed  cut  by  that  aqueous  plane  into 
two  sections,  one  above  and  one  below  a  transparent,  rigid 
surface  line.  The  dividing  line,  or  horizontal  plane,  ap- 
peared as  much  a  surface  of  air  as  a  surface  of  water,  and 
the  material  above  that  plane  seemed  no  more  nor  less  a 
gas  or  liquid  than  that  beneath  it.  If  two  limpid,  trans- 
parent liquids,  immiscible,  but  of  different  gavities,  be 
poured  into  the  same  vessel,  the  line  of  demarcation  will 
be  as  a  brilliant  mirror,  such  as  I  now  beheld  parting  and 
yet  uniting  the  surfaces  of  air  and  water. 

Lost  in  contemplation,  I  unconsciously  asked  the  men- 
tal question : 

"Where  are  the  shadows  ?" 

My  guide  replied : 

"You  have  been  accustomed  to  lakes  on  the  surface  of 
the  earth — water  that  is  illuminated  from  above ;  now  you 
see  by  a  light  that  is  developed  from  within  and  below,  as 
well  as  from  above.  There  is  no  outside  point  of  il- 
lumination for  the  light  of  this  cavern,  as  you  know,  is 
neither  transmitted  through  an  overlying  atmosphere  nor 
radiated  from  a  luminous  centre.  It  is  an  inherent 
quality,  and  as  objects  above  us  and  within  the  lake  are 
illuminated  alike  from  all  sides,  there  can  be  no  shadows." 

Musingly,  I  said : 

"That  which  has  occurred  before  in  this  journey  to  the 
unknown  country  of  which  I  have  been  advised  seemed 
mysterious ;  but  each  succeeding  step  discovers  to  me  an- 
other novelty  that  is  more  marvellous,  with  unlooked-for 
phenomena  that  are  more  obscure." 

"This  phenomenon  is  not  more  of  a  mystery  than  is  the 
fact  that  light  radiates  from  the  sun.  Man  cannot  ex- 
plain that,  and  I  shall  not  now  attempt  to  explain  this. 
Both  conditions  are  attributes  of  force,  but  with  this  dis- 
tinction— the  crude  light  and  heat  of  the  sun,  such  as  men 
experience  on  the  surface  of  the  earth,  is  here  refined  and 


128  Etidorhpa 

softened,  and  the  characteristic  glare  and  harshness  of  the 
light  that  is  known  to  those  who  Hve  on  the  earth's  sur- 
face is  absent  here.  The  solar  ray,  after  penetrating  the 
earth's  crust,  is  tempered  and  refined  by  agencies  which 
man  will  yet  investigate  understandingly,  but  which  he 
cannot  now  comprehend." 

"Am  I  destined  to  deal  with  these  problems?" 

"Only  in  part." 

"Are  still  greater  wonders  before  us?" 

"If  your  courage  is  sufficient  to  carry  you  onward,  you 
have  yet  to  enter  the  portal  of  the  expanse  we  approach." 

"Lead  on,  my  friend,"  I  cried ;  "lead  on  to  these  un- 
described  scenes,  the  occult  wonderland  that" — 

He  interrupted  me  almost  rudely,  and  in  a  serious  man- 
ner said : 

"Have  you  not  learned  that  wonder  is  an  exemplifi- 
cation of  ignorance?  The  child  wonders  at  a  goblin 
story,  the  savage  at  a  trinket,  the  man  of  science  at  an 
unexplained  manifestation  of  a  previously  unperceived 
natural  law ;  each  wonders  in  ignorance,  because  of 
ignorance.  Accept  now  that  all  you  have  seen  from  the 
day  of  your  birth  to  the  present,  and  all  that  you  will 
meet  are  wonderful  only  because  the  finite  mind  of  man 
is  confused  by  fragments  of  evidence,  that,  from  whatever 
direction  we  meet  them,  spring  from  an  unreachable  in- 
finity.   We  will  continue  our  journey." 

Proceeding  farther  along  the  edge  of  the  lake,  we  came 
to  a  metallic  boat.  This  my  guide  picked  up  as  easily  as 
though  it  were  of  paper,  for  be  it  remembered  that 
gravitation  had  slackened  its  hold  here.  Placing  it  upon 
the  water,  he  stepped  into  it,  and  as  directed  I  seated  my- 
self near  the  stern,  my  face  to  the  bow,  my  back  to  the 
shore.  The  guide,  directly  in  front  of  me,  gently  and 
very  slowly  moved  a  small  lever  that  rested  on  a  pro- 
jection before  him,  and  I  gazed  intently  upon  him  as  we 
sat  together  in  silence.  At  last  I  became  impatient,  and 
asked  him  if  we  would  not  soon  begin  our  journey. 


"  \\K    CAMK    TO    A    MKIAI.    HOAT." 


The  Mother  of  a  Volcano  129 

"We  have  been  on  our  way  since  we  have  been  seated," 
he  answered. 

I  gazed  behind  with  increduHty :  the  shore  had  disap- 
peared, and  the  diverging  wake  of  the  ripples  showed 
that  we  were  rapidly  skimming  the  water. 

"This  is  marvellous,"  I  said ;  "incomprehensible,  for 
without  sail  or  oar,  wind  or  steam,  we  are  fleeing  over  a 
lake  that  has  no  current." 

"True,  but  not  marvellous.  Motion  of  matter  is  a  re- 
sult of  disturbance  of  energy  connected  therewith.  Is  it 
not  scientifically  demonstrated,  at  least  in  theory,  that  if 
the  motion  of  the  spirit  that  causes  the  magnetic  needle 
to  assume  its  familiar  position  were  really  arrested  in  the 
substance  of  the  needle,  either  the  metal  would  fuse  and 
vaporize  or  (if  the  forces  did  not  appear  in  some  other 
form,  such  as  heat,  electricity,  magnetism,  or  other  force) 
the  needle  would  be  hurled  onward  with  great  speed?" 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

MOTION     FROM     INHERENT     ENERGY. "lEAD     ME     DEEPER 

INTO    THIS    EXPANDING    STUDY.'' 

"I  PARTLY  comprehend  that  such  would  be  the  case,"  I 
said. 

"If  a  series  of  knife  blades  on  pivot  ends  be  set  in  a 
frame,  and  turned  edgewise  to  a  rapid  current  of  water, 
the  swiftly  moving  stream  flows  through  this  sieve  of 
metallic  edges  about  as  easily  as  if  there  were  no 
obstructions.  Slowly  turn  the  blades  so  as  to  present 
their  oblique  sides  to  the  current,  and  an  immediate  pres- 
sure is  apparent  upon  the  frame  that  holds  them ;  turn  the 
blades  so  as  to  shut  up  the  space,  and  they  will  be  torn 
from  their  sockets,  or  the  entire  frame  will  be  shattered 
into  pieces." 

"I  understand  ;  go  on." 

"The  ethereal  current  that  generates  the  magnetic 
force  passes  through  material  bodies  with  inconceivable 
rapidity,  and  the  molecules  of  a  few  substances  only 
present  to  it  the  least  obstruction.  Material  molecules  are 
edgewise  in  it,  and  meet  no  retardation  in  the  subtle  flood. 
This  force  is  a  disturbance  of  space  energy  that  is  rush- 
ing into  the  earth  in  one  form,  and  out  of  it  in  another. 
But  your  mind  is  not  yet  in  a  condition  to  grasp  the  sub- 
ject, for  at  best  there  is  no  method  of  explaining  to  men 
that  which  their  experimental  education  has  failed  to  pre- 
pare them  to  receive,  and  for  which  first  absolutely  new 
ideas,  and  next  words  with  new  meaning,  must  be  formed. 
Now  we  (by  we  I  mean  those  with  whom  I  am  con- 
nected) have  learned  to  disturb  the  molecules  in  matter 
so  as  to  turn  them  partly,  or  entirely,  across  the  path  of 
this  magnetic  current,  and  thus  interrupt  the  motion  of 
this    ever-present    energy.      We    can    retard    its    velocity 


Motion  and  Inherent  Energy         i  3  i 

without,  however,  producing  either  magnetism  (as  is  the 
case  in  a  bar  of  steel),  electricity,  or  heat,  but  motion  in- 
stead, and  thus  a  portion  of  this  retarded  energy  springs 
into  its  new  existence  as  motion  of  my  boat.  It  is  force 
changed  into  movement  of  matter,  for  the  molecules  of 
the  boat,  as  a  mass,  must  move  onward  as  the  force  disap- 
pears as  a  current.  Perhaps  you  can  accept  now  that  in- 
stead of  light,  heat,  electricity,  magnetism,  and  gravita- 
tion being  really  modifications  of  force  they  are  disturb- 
ances." 

"Disturbances  of  what?" 

"Disturbances  of  motion." 

"Motion  of  what?" 

"Motion  of  itself,  pure  and  simple." 

"I  cannot  comprehend.  I  cannot  conceive  of  motion 
pure  and  simple." 

"I  shall  explain  at  a  future  time,  so  that  you  can  com- 
prehend more  clearly.  Other  lessons  must  come  first,  but 
never  will  you  see  the  end.    Truth  is  infinite." 

Continuing,  he  said : 

"Let  me  ask  if  there  is  anything  marvellous  in  this 
statement.  On  the  earth's  surface  men  arrest  the  fitful 
wind,  and  by  so  doing  divert  the  energy  of  its  motion 
into  movement  of  machinery ;  they  induce  it  to  turn  mills 
and  propel  vessels.  This  motion  of  air  is  a  disturbance, 
mass  motion  transmitted  to  the  air  by  heat,  heat  in  turn 
being  a  disturbance  or  interruption  of  pure  motion.  When 
men  learn  to  interrupt  this  unperceived  stream  of  energy^ 
so  as  to  change  directly  into  material  motion  the  spirit 
that  saturates  the  universe,  and  that  produces  force  ex- 
pressions, as  it  is  constantly  rushing  from  earth  into 
space,  and  from  space  back  again,  they  will  have  at  com- 
mand wherever  they  may  be  an  endless  source  of  power, 
light,  and  heat ;  mass  motion,  light  and  heat  being  inter- 
convertible. iMotion  lies  behind  heat,  light,  and  electricity, 
and  produces  them,  and  so  long  as  the  earth  revolves  on 
its  axis,  and  circles  in  its  orbit,  man  needs  no  light  and 
heat  from  such  indirect  sources  as  combustion.    Men  will 


132  Etidorhpa 

surely  yet  obtain  motion  of  molecules  (heat),  and 
material  mass  motion  as  well,  from  earth  motion,  with- 
out the  intermediate  force  expressions  now  deemed  neces- 
sary in  their  production/' 

"Do  you  wish  me  to  understand  that  on  all  parts  of  the 
earth's  surface  there  is  a  continual  expenditure  of  energy, 
an  ever-ready  current,  that  is  really  distinct  from  the  light 
and  heat  of  the  sun,  and  also  that  the  imponderable  bodies 
that  we  call  heat,  light,  electricity,  and  magnetism  are 
not  substances  at  all?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied. 

"And  that  this  imperceptible  something — fluid  I  will 
say,  for  want  of  a  better  term — now  invisible  and  un- 
known to  man,  is  as  a  medium  in  which  the  earth,  sub- 
merged, floats  as  a  speck  of  dust  in  a  flood  of  space  ?" 

"Certainly,"  he  replied. 

"Am  1  to  infer  from  your  remarks  that,  in  the  course 
of  time,  man  will  be  able  to  economize  this  force,  and 
adapt  it  to  his  wants?" 

"Yes." 

"Go  on  with  your  exposition,  I  again  beg  of  you ;  lead 
me  deeper  into  this  expanding  study." 

"There  is  but  little  more  that  you  can  comprehend  now, 
as  I  have  said,"  he  answered.  "All  materials  known  to 
man  are  of  coarse  texture,  and  the  minds  of  men  are  not 
yet  in  a  condition  to  comprehend  finer  exhibitions  of 
force,  or  of  motion  modifications.  Pure  energy,  in  all  its 
modifications,  is  absolutely  unknown  to  man.  What  men 
call  heat,  gravitation,  light,  electricity,  and  magnetism 
are  the  grosser  attributes  attending  alterations  in  an  un- 
known, attenuated,  highly  developed  force  producer. 
They  are  results,  not  causes.  The  real  force,  an  un- 
reached energy,  is  now  flooding  all  space,  pervading  all 
materials.  Everywhere  there  exists  an  infinite  sea  of 
absolute  motion.  Since  this  primeval  entity  cannot  now 
affect  matter,  as  matter  is  known  to  man,  man's  sense  can 
only  be  influenced  by  secondary  attributes  of  this  energy. 
Unconscious  of  its  all-pervading  presence,  however,  man 


Motion  and  Inherent  Energy  133 

is  working  towara  the  power  that  will  some  day,  upon 
the  development  of  latent  senses,  open  to  him  this  new 
world.  Then  at  last  he  will  move  without  muscular  ex- 
ertion, or  the  use  of  heat  as  an  agent  of  motion,  and  will, 
as  I  am  now  doing,  bridle  the  motion  of  space.  Wherever 
he  may  be  situated,  there  will  then  be  warmth  to  any  de- 
gree that  he  wishes,  for  he  will  be  able  to  temper  the  sea- 
sons ;  and  mass  motion  illimitable,  also,  for  this  energy,  I 
reiterate,  is  omnipresent.  However,  as  you  will  know 
more  of  this  before  long,  let  us  pass  the  subject  for  the 
present." 

My  guide  slowly  moved  the  lever.  I  sat  in  deep  re- 
flection, beginning  to  comprehend  somewhat  of  his  rea- 
soning, and  yet  my  mind  was  more  than  clouded.  The 
several  ambiguous  repetitions  he  had  made  since  our 
journey  commenced,  each  time  suggesting  the  same  idea, 
yet  clothing  it  in  different  forms  of  expression,  impressed 
me  vaguely  with  the  conception  of  a  certain  something 
for  which  I  was  gradually  being  prepared,  and  which  I 
might  eventually  be  educated  to  comprehend,  but  which 
he  believed  my  mind  was  not  yet  ready  to  receive.  I 
gathered  from  what  he  said  that  he  could  have  given 
clearer  explanations  than  he  was  now  doing,  and  that  he 
clothed  his  language  intentionally  in  mysticism,  and  that, 
for  some  reason,  he  preferred  to  leave  my  mind  in  a  con- 
dition of  uncertainty.  The  velocity  of  the  boat  increased 
as  he  again  and  again  cautiously  touched  the  lever,  and 
at  last  the  responsive  craft  rose  nearly  out  of  the  water, 
and  skimmed  like  a  bird  over  its  surface.  There  was  no 
object  in  that  lake  of  pure  crystal  to  govern  me  in  cal- 
culating as  to  the  rapidity  of  our  motion,  and  I  studied 
to  evolve  a  method  by  which  I  could  time  our  movements. 
With  this  object  in  view  I  tore  a  scrap  from  my  clothing 
and  tossed  it  into  the  air.  It  fell  at  my  feet  as  if  in  a  calm. 
There  was  no  breeze.  I  picked  the  fragment  up,  in  be- 
wilderment, for  I  had  expected  it  to  fall  behind  us.  Then 
it  occurred  to  me,  as  by  a  flash,  that  notwithstanding  our 
apparently  rapid  motion,  there  was  an  entire  absence  of 


1 34  Etidorhpa 

atmospheric  resistance.  What  could  explain  the  para- 
dox? I  turned  to  my  guide  and  again  tossed  the  frag- 
ment of  cloth  upward,  and  again  it  settled  at  my  feet.  He 
smiled,  and  answered  my  silent  inquiry. 

"There  is  a  protecting  sheet  before  us,  radiating,  fan- 
like, from  the  bow  of  our  boat  as  if  a  large  pane  of  glass 
were  resting  on  edge,  thus  shedding  the  force  of  the 
wind.  This  diaphragm  catches  the  attenuated  atmos- 
phere and  protects  us  from  its  friction." 

"But  I  see  no  such  protecting  object,"  I  answered. 

"No;  it  is  invisible.  You  cannot  see  the  obstructing 
power,  for  it  is  really  a  gyrating  section  of  force,  and  is 
colorless.  That  spray  of  metal  on  the  brow  of  our  boat  is 
the  developer  of  this  protecting  medium.  Imagine  a 
transverse  section  of  an  eddy  of  water  on  edge  before  us, 
and  you  can  form  a  comparison.  Throw  the  bit  of  gar- 
ment as  far  as  you  can  beyond  the  side  of  the  boat." 

I  did  so,  and  saw  it  flutter  slowly  away  to  a  consider- 
able distance  parallel  with  our  position  in  the  boat  as 
though  in  a  perfect  calm,  and  then  it  disappeared.  It 
seemed  to  have  been  dissolved.  I  gazed  at  my  guide  in 
amazement. 

"Try  again,"  said  he. 

I  tore  another  and  a  larger  fragment  from  my  coat 
sleeve.  I  fixed  my  eyes  closely  upon  it,  and  cast  it  from 
me.  The  bit  of  garment  fluttered  listlessly  away  to  the 
same  distance,  and  then — vacancy.  Wonders  of  wonder- 
land, mysteries  of  the  mysterious !  What  would  be  the 
end  of  this  marvellous  journey?  Suspicion  again 
possessed  me,  and  distrust  arose.  Could  not  my  self-exist- 
ence be  blotted  out  in  like  manner?  I  thought  again  of 
my  New  York  home,  and  the  recollection  of  upper  earth, 
and  those  broken  family  ties  brought  to  my  heart  a  flood 
of  bitter  emotions.  I  inwardly  cursed  the  writer  of  that 
alchemistic  letter,  and  cursed  myself  for  heeding  the  con- 
tents. The  tears  gushed  from  my  eyes  and  trickled 
through  my  fingers  as  I  covered  my  face  with  my  hands 


Motion  and  Inherent  Energy         135 

and   groaned   aloud.     Then,    with    a   gentle   touch,    my 
guide's  hand  rested  on  my  shoulder. 

"Calm  yourself,"  he  said ;  "this  phenomenon  is  a 
natural  sequence  to  a  deeper  study  of  Nature  than  man 
has  reached.  It  is  simply  the  result  of  an  exhibition  of 
rapid  motion.  You  are  upon  a  great  underground  lake, 
that,  on  a  shelf  of  earth  substance  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  below  the  earth's  surface,  has  an  average  depth  of 
five  miles  and  covers  an  area  of  many  thousand  square 
miles.  We  are  now  crossing  it  diagonally  at  a  rapid  rate 
by  the  aid  of  the  force  that  man  will  yet  use  in  a  perfectly 
natural  manner  on  the  rough  upper  ocean  and  bleak  lands 
of  the  earth's  coarse  surface.  The  fragments  of  cloth  dis- 
appeared from  sight  when  thrown  beyond  the  influence  of 
our  protecting  diaphragm,  because  when  they  struck  the 
outer  motionless  atmosphere  they  were  instantly  left  be- 
hind ;  the  eye  could  not  catch  their  sudden  change  in 
motion.  A  period  of  time  is  necessary  to  convey  from  eye 
to  mind  the  sensation  of  sight.  The  bullet  shot  from  a 
gun  is  invisible  by  reason  of  the  fact  that  the  eye  cannot 
discern  the  momentary  interruption  to  the  light.  A 
cannon  ball  will  compass  the  field  of  vision  of  the  eye, 
moving  across  it  without  making  itself  known,  and  yet 
the  fact  does  not  excite  surprise.  We  are  travelling  so 
fast  that  small,  stationary  objects  outside  our  track  are  in- 
visible." 

Then  in  a  kind,  pathetic  tone  of  voice,  he  said : 
"An  important  lesson  you  should  learn,  I  have  men- 
tioned it  before.  Whatever  seems  to  be  mysterious  or 
marvellous  is  only  so  because  of  the  lack  of  knowledge  of 
associated  natural  phenomena  and  connected  conditions. 
All  that  you  have  experienced,  all  that  you  have  yet  to 
meet  in  your  future  journey,  is  in  exact  accordance  with 
the  laws  that  govern  the  universe,  of  which  the  earth  con- 
stitutes so  small  a  portion  that,  were  the  conditions  favor- 
able, it  could  be  blotted  from  its  present  existence  as 
quickly  as  that  bit  of  garment  disappeared,  and  with  as 


136  Etidorhpa 

little    disturbance    of    the    mechanism    of    the    moving 
universe." 

I  leaned  over,  resting  my  face  upon  my  elbow ;  my 
thoughts  were  immethodically  wandering  in  the  midst  of 
multiplying  perplexities.  I  closed  my  eyes  as  a  weary 
child,  and  slept. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

SLEEP,  DREAMS,   NIGHTMARE. '^STRANGLE  THE  LIFE  FROM 

MY   BODY." 

I  KNOW  not  how  long  I  sat  wrapped  in  slumber.  Even 
if  my  body  had  not  been  wearing  away  as  formerly,  my 
mind  had  become  excessively  wearied.  I  had  existed  in 
a  state  of  abnormal  mental  intoxication  far  beyond  the 
period  of  accustomed  wakefulness,  and  had  taxed  my  in- 
tellectual organization  beyond  endurance.  In  the  midst 
of  events  of  the  most  startling  description  I  had  abruptly 
passed  into  what  was  at  its  commencement  the  sweetest 
sleep  of  my  recollection,  but  which  came  to  a  horrible  ter- 
mination. 

In  my  dream  I  was  transported  once  more  to  my  native 
land,  and  roamed  in  freedom  throughout  the  streets  of 
my  lost  home.  I  lived  over  again  my  early  life  in  Vir- 
ginia, and  I  seemed  to  have  lost  all  recollection  of  the 
weird  journey  which  I  had  lately  taken.  My  subsequent 
connection  with  the  brotherhood  of  alchemists,  and  the 
unfortunate  letter  that  led  to  my  present  condition,  were 
forgotten.  There  came  no  thought  suggestive  of  the 
train  of  events  that  are  here  chronicled,  and  as  a  child  I 
tasted  again  the  pleasures  of  innocence,  the  joys  of  boy- 
hood. 

Then  my  dream  of  childhood  vanished,  and  the  scenes 
of  later  days  spread  themselves  before  me.  I  saw,  after  a 
time,  the  scenes  of  my  later  life,  as  though  I  viewed  them 
from  a  distance,  and  was  impressed  with  the  idea  that 
they  were  not  real,  but  only  the  fragments  of  a  dream.  I 
shuddered  in  my  childish  dreamland,  and  trembled  as  a 
child  would  at  confronting  events  of  the  real  life  that  I 
had  passed  through  on  earth,  and  that  gradually  assuming 
the  shape  of  man  approached   and   stood  before  me,   a 


138  Etidorhpa 

hideous  spectre  seemingly  ready  to  absorb  me.  The 
peaceful  child  in  which  I  existed  shrunk  back,  and  re- 
coiled from  the  approaching  living  man. 

"Away,  away,"  I  cried,  "you  shall  not  grasp  me,  I  do 
not  wish  to  become  a  man ;  this  cannot,  must  not  be  the 
horrible  end  to  a  sweet  existence." 

Gradually  the  ^Man  Life  approached,  seized  and  en- 
veloped me,  closing  around  me  as  a  jelly  fish  surrounds 
its  living  victim,  while  the  horrors  of  a  nightmare  came 
over  my  soul. 

"Man's  life  is  a  fearful  dream,"  I  shouted,  as  I  writhed 
in  agony ;  "I  am  still  a  child,  and  will  remain  one ;  keep 
off !    Life  of  man,  away !  let  me  live  and  die  a  child." 

The  Spectre  of  Man's  Life  seized  me  more  firmly  as  I 
struggled  to  escape,  and  holding  me  in  its  irresistible 
clutch  absorbed  my  substance  as  a  vampire  might  suck 
the  blood  of  an  infant,  and  while  the  childish  dream  dis- 
appeared in  that  hideous  embrace,  the  miserable  man 
awoke. 

I  found  myself  on  land.  The  guide,  seated  at  my  side, 
remarked : 

"You  have  slept." 

"T  have  lived  again,"  I  said  in  bitterness. 

"You  have  not  lived  at  all  as  yet,"  he  replied ;  "life  is 
a  dream,  usually  it  is  an  unsatisfied  nightmare." 

"Then  let  me  dream  again  as  at  the  beginning  of  this 
slumber,"  I  said ;  "and  while  I  dream  as  a  child,  do  you 
strangle  the  life  from  my  body — spare  me  the  nightmare, 
I  would  not  live  to  reach  the  Life  of  Man." 

"This  is  sarcasm,"  he  replied ;  "you  are  as  changeable 
as  the  winds  of  the  earth's  surface.  Now  as  you  are  about 
to  approach  a  part  of  our  journey  where  fortitude  is 
necessary,  behold,  you  waver  as  a  little  child  might. 
Nerve  yourself;  the  trials  of  the  present  require  a  steady 
mind,  let  the  future  care  for  itself;  you  cannot  recall  the 
past." 

I  became  attentive  again ;  the  depressing  effects  of  that 
repellent  dream  rapidly  lifted,  and  wasted  away,  as  I  real- 


Sleep,  Dreams,  Nightmare  139 

ized  that  I  was  a  man,  ana  was  yet  destined  to  see  more 
than  can  be  seen  in  the  future  of  other  mortals.  This 
elevation  of  my  spirit  was  evidently  understood  by  my 
guide.  He  turned  to  the  lake,  and  pointing  to  its  quiet 
bosom,  remarked : 

"For  five  hours  we  have  journeyed  over  this  sheet  of 
water  at  the  average  rate  of  nine  hundred  miles  an  hour. 
At  the  time  you  threw  the  fragments  of  cloth  overboard 
we  were  travelling  at  a  speed  of  not  less  than  twenty  miles 
per  minute.  You  remember  that  some  hours  ago  you 
criticised  my  assertion  when  I  said  that  we  would  soon 
be  near  the  axis  of  the  earth  beneath  the  North  Pole,  and 
now  we  are  beyond  that  point,  and  are  about  six  thou- 
sand miles  from  where  we  stood  at  that  time." 

"You  must  have  your  way,"  I  replied ;  "I  cannot  dis- 
prove your  assertion,  but  were  it  not  that  I  have  passed 
through  so  many  marvellous  experiences  since  first  we 
met,  I  would  question  the  reliability  of  your  information." 

My  guide  continued : 

"The  surface  of  this  lake  lies  as  a  mirror  beneath  both 
the  ocean  and  the  land.  The  force  effect  that  preserves 
the  configuration  of  the  ocean  preserves  the  form  of  this 
also,  but  influences  it  to  a  less  extent,  the  two  surfaces  lie 
nearly  parallel  with  each  other,  this  one  being  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  beneath  the  surface  of  the  earth.  The 
shell  of  the  earth  above  us  is  honeycombed  by  caverns  in 
some  places,  in  others  it  is  compact,  and  yet  in  most 
places  is  impervious  to  water.  At  the  farther  extremity 
of  the  lake  a  stratum  of  porous  material  extends  through 
the  space  intervening  between  the  bottom  of  the  ocean 
and  this  lake.  By  capillary  attraction,  assisted  by 
gravitation,  part  of  the  water  of  the  ocean  is  being  trans- 
ferred through  that  stratum  to  the  underground  cavity. 
The  lake  is  slowly  rising." 

At  this  remark  I  interrupted  him :  "You  say  the  water 
in  the  ocean  is  being  slowly  transferred  down  to  this  un- 
derground lake  less  by  gravity  than  by  capillarity." 

"Yes." 


140  Etidorhpa 

'I  believe  that  I  have  reason  to  question  that  statement, 
if  you  do  not  include  the  salt,"  I  replied. 

"Pray  state  your  objections." 

I  answered :  "Whether  a  tube  be  long  or  short,  if  it 
penetrate  the  bottom  of  a  vessel  of  brine,  and  extend 
downward,  the  brine  will  flow  into  and  out  of  it  by  reason 
of  its  weight." 

"You  mistake,"  he  asserted ;  "the  attraction  of  the  sides 
of  the  capillary  tube,  if  the  tube  is  long  enough,  will 
eventually  separate  the  water  from  the  salt,  and  at  length 
a  downward  flow  of  water  only  will  result." 

I  again  expressed  my  incredulity. 

"More  than  this,  by  perfectly  natural  laws  the  water 
that  is  freed  from  the  tubes  might  again  force  itself  up- 
ward perfectly  fresh,  to  the  surface  of  the  earth — yes, 
under  proper  conditions,  above  the  surface  of  the  ocean." 

"Do  you  take  me  for  a  fool?"  I  said.  "Is  it  not  self- 
evident  that  a  fountain  cannot  rise  above  its  source?" 

"It  often  does,"  he  answered. 

"You  trifle  with  me,"  I  said  acrimoniously. 

"No,"  he  replied;  "I  am  telling  you  the  truth.  Have 
you  never  heard  of  what  men  call  artesian  wells  ?" 

"Yes,  and"  (here  I  attempted  in  turn  to  become 
sarcastic)  "have  you  never  learned  that  they  are  caused 
by  water  flowing  into  crevices  in  uplands  where  layers  of 
stone  or  of  clay  strata  separated  by  sand  or  gravel  slant 
upward?  The  water  conducted  thence  by  these  channels 
afterward  springs  up  in  the  valleys  to  which  it  has  been 
carried  by  means  of  the  crevices  in  these  strata,  but  it 
never  rises  above  its  source." 

To  my  surprise  he  answered  : 

"This  is  another  of  man's  scientific  speculations,  based 
on  some  facts,  it  is  true,  and  now  and  then  correct,  but 
not  invariably.  The  water  of  an  artesian  well  on  an 
elevated  plane  may  flow  into  the  earth  from  a  creek,  pond, 
or  river  that  is  lower  than  the  mouth  of  the  well  it  feeds, 
and  still  it  may  spout  into  the  air  from  either  a  near  or 
distant  elevation  that  is  higher  than  its  source." 


Sleep,  Dreams,  Nightmare  141 

"I  cannot  admit  the  truth  of  this,"  1  said ;  "I  am  will- 
ing to  listen  to  reason,  but  such  statements  as  these  seem 
altogether  absurd." 

"As  you  please,"  he  replied ;  "we  will  continue  our 
journey." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

A  CHALLENGE. MY  UNBIDDEN  GUEST  ACCEPTS  IT. LOOK- 
ING BACKWARD. THE   LIVING   BRAIN. 

The  white-haired  reader,  in  whom  I  had  now  become 
deeply  interested,  no  longer  an  unwelcome  stranger, 
suspended  his  reading,  laid  down  his  manuscript,  and 
looking  me  in  the  face,  asked : 

"Are  you  a  believer,  Llewellyn?" 

"No,"  I  promptly  answered. 

"What  part  of  the  narrative  do  vou  question?" 

"All  of  it." 

"Have  you  not  already  investigated  some  of  the  state- 
ments I  previously  made?"  he  queried. 

"Yes,"  I  said ;  "but  you  had  not  then  given  utterance  to 
such  preposterous  expressions." 

"Is  not  the  truth  the  truth?"  he  answered. 

"You  ask  me  to  believe  impossibilities,"  I  replied. 

"Name  one." 

"You  yourself  admit,"  I  said  warmly,  "that  you  were 
incredulous,  and  shook  your  head  when  your  guide  as- 
serted that  the  bottom  of  the  ocean  might  be  as  porous  as 
a  sieve,  and  still  hold  water.  A  fountain  cannot  rise 
above  its  source." 

"It  often  does,  however,"  he  replied. 

"I  do  not  believe  you,"  I  said  boldly.  "And,  further- 
more, I  assert  that  you  might  as  reasonably  ask  me  to  be- 
lieve that  I  can  see  my  own  brain  as  to  accept  your  fiction 
regarding  the  production  of  light,  miles  below  the  sur- 
face of  the  earth." 

"I  can  make  your  brain  visible  to  you,  and  if  you  dare 
to  accompany  me,  I  will  carry  you  beneath  the  surface  of 
the  earth  and  prove  my  other  statement,"  he  said. 
"Come !"    He  arose  and  grasped  my  arm. 


A  Challenge  143 

The  old  man  accompanied  his  word  "come"  by  rising 
from  his  chair,  and  then  with  a  display  of  strength  quite 
out  of  proportion  to  his  age  he  grasped  my  wrist  and 
drew  me  toward  the  door.  Realizing  at  once  that  he  in- 
tended I  should  accompany  him  into  the  night,  I  pro- 
tested, saying  that  I  was  quite  unprepared. 

"My  hat,  at  least,"  I  insisted,  as  he  made  no  recognition 
of  my  first  demur. 

"Your  hat  is  on  your  head,"  he  replied. 

This  was  true,  although  I  am  sure  the  hat  had  been 
previously  hung  on  a  rack  in  a  distant  part  of  the  room, 
and  I  am  equally  certain  that  neither  my  companion  nor 
myself  had  touched  it.  Leaving  me  no  time  for  reflection, 
he  opened  the  door  and  drew  me  through  the  hallway 
and  into  the  gloom.  As  though  perfectly  familiar  with 
the  city,  he  guided  me  from  my  cosey  home  on  the  re- 
tired side  street  in  which  I  resided,  eastwardly  into  the 
busy  thoroughfare.  Western  Row.  Our  course  led  us 
down  toward  the  river,  past  Ninth,  Eighth,  Seventh 
Streets.  Now  and  then  a  pedestrian  stopped  to  gaze  in 
surprise  at  the  unique  spectacle,  the  old  man  leading 
the  young  one,  but  none  made  any  attempt  to  molest 
us.  We  passed  on  in  silence  out  of  the  busy  part  of  the 
thoroughfare  and  into  the  shady  part  of  the  city,  into  the 
darkness  below  Fifth  Street.  Here  the  residences  were 
poorer  and  tenement-houses  and  factories  began  to  ap- 
pear. We  were  now  in  a  quarter  of  the  city  into  which 
strangers  seldom,  if  ever,  penetrated  after  night,  and  in 
which  I  would  not  have  cared  to  be  found  unprotected 
at  any  time  after  sunset,  much  less  in  such  questionable 
company.  I  protested  against  the  indiscretion ;  my 
leader  made  no  reply,  but  drew  me  on  past  the  flickering 
gas  lights  that  now  and  then  appeared  at  the  intersection 
of  Third,  Pearl,  Second  and  Water  streets,  until  at  last 
we  stood,  in  darkness,  on  the  bank  of  the  Ohio  River. 

The  ferry-boat  at  that  time  of  night  only  made  a  trip 
every  thirty  minutes,  and  yet  it  was  at  the  landing  as 
though  by  appointment.     Fear  began  to  possess  me,  and 


144  Etidorhpa 

as  my  thoughts  recur  to  that  evening  I  cannot  under- 
stand how  it  was  that  I  allowed  myself  to  be  drawn  with- 
out cry  or  resistance  from  my  secure  home  to  the  Ohio 
River  in  such  companionship.  I  can  account  for  the 
adventure  only  by  the  fact  that  I  had  deliberately  chal- 
lenged my  companion  to  make  the  test  he  was  fulfilling, 
and  that  an  innate  consciousness  of  pride  and  justice 
compelled  me  to  permit  him  to  employ  his  own  methods. 
We  crossed  the  river  without  speaking,  and  rapidly  as- 
cending the  levee,  we  took  our  course  up  Main  Street  into 
Covington.  Still  in  the  lead,  my  aged  guide,  without 
hesitation,  went  onward  to  the  intersection  of  Main  and 
Pike  streets ;  thence  he  turned  to  the  right  and,  follow- 
ing the  latter  thoroughfare,  we  passed  the  old  tannery, 
that  I  recalled  as  a  familiar  landmark,  and  then  started 
up  the  hill.  Onward  we  strode,  past  a  hotel  named  "Nie- 
meyer's,"  and  soon  were  in  the  open  country  on  the 
Lexington  Pike,  treading  through  the  mud,  diagonally 
up  the  hill  back  of  Covington.  Then,  at  a  sharp  curve 
in  the  road  where  it  rounded  the  point  of  the  hill,  we  left 
the  highway  and  struck  down  the  hillside  into  a  ravine 
that  bounded  the  lower  side  of  the  avenue.  We  had  long 
since  left  the  city  lamps  and  sidewalks  behind  us,  and 
now,  when  we  left  the  roadway,  were  on  the  muddy  pike 
at  a  considerable  elevation  upon  the  hillside,  and,  looking 
backward,  I  beheld  innumerable  lights  throughout  the 
cities  of  Cincinnati,  Covington,  and  the  village  of  New- 
port sparkling  away  in  the  distance  behind  and  below  us. 

"Come,"  my  companion  said  again,  as  I  hesitated,  re- 
peating the  only  word  he  had  uttered  since  telling  his  hor- 
rible story,  "come !" 

Down  the  hill  into  the  valley  we  plunged,  and  at  last 
he  opened  the  door  of  an  isolated  log  cabin,  which  we 
entered.  He  lighted  a  candle  that  he  drew  from  his 
pocket,  and  together  we  stood  facing  each  other. 

"Be  seated,"  he  said  dryly. 

And  then  I  observed  that  the  cold  excuse  for  furniture 
in  that  desolate  room  consisted  of  a  single  rude,  hand- 


A  Challenge  145 

made  chair  with  corn-shuck  bottom.  However,  I  did 
not  need  a  second  invitation,  but  sank  exhausted  and  dis- 
consolate upon  the  welcome  object. 

My  companion  lost  no  time,  but  struck  at  once  into  the 
subject  that  concerned  us,  arguing  as  follows : 

"One  of  the  troubles  with  humanity  is  that  of  changing 
a  thought  from  the  old  to  a  new  channel ;  to  grasp  an 
entirely  new  idea  at  one  effort  is  an  impossibility.  Men 
follow  men  in  trains  of  thought  expression,  as  in  bodily 
form  generations  of  men  follow  generations.  A  child 
born  with  three  legs  is  a  freak  of  Nature,  a  monstrosity, 
yet  it  sometimes  appears.  A  man  possessed  of  a  new  idea 
is  an  anomaly,  a  something  that  may  not  be  impossible, 
but  which  has  never  appeared.  It  is  almost  as  difficult 
to  conceive  of  a  new  idea  as  it  is  to  create  out  of  nothing 
a  new  material  or  an  element.  Neither  thoughts  nor 
things  can  be  invented,  both  must  be  evolved  out  of  a 
pre-existing  something  which  it  necessarily  resembles. 
Every  advanced  idea  that  appears  in  the  brain  of  man 
is  the  result  of  a  suggestion  from  without.  Men  have 
gone  on  and  on  ceaselessly,  with  their  minds  bent  in  one 
direction,  ever  looking  outwardly,  never  inwardly.  It 
has  not  occurred  to  them  to  question  at  all  in  the  direc- 
tion of  backward  sight.  Mind  has  been  enabled  to  read 
the  impressions  that  are  made  in  and  on  the  substance 
of  brain  convolutions,  but  at  the  same  time  has  been  and 
is  insensible  to  the  existence  of  the  convolutions  them- 
selves. It  is  as  though  we  could  read  the  letters  of  the 
manuscript  that  bears  them  without  having  conceived  of 
a  necessity  for  the  existence  of  a  carrying  surface,  such 
as  paper  or  anything  outside  the  letters.  Had  anatomists 
never  dissected  a  brain,  the  human  family  would  to-day 
live  in  absolute  ignorance  of  the  nature  of  the  sub- 
stance that  lies  within  the  skull.  Did  you  ever  stop  to 
think  that  the  mind  cannot  now  bring  to  the  senses  the 
configuration,  or  nature,  of  the  substance  in  which  mind 
exists?  Its  own  house  is  unknown.  This  is  in  conse- 
quence of  the  fact  that  physical  existence  has  always  de- 


146  Etidorhpa 

pended  upon  the  study  of  external  surroundings,  and 
consequently  the  power  of  internal  sight  lies  undeveloped. 
It  has  never  been  deemed  necessary  for  man  to  attempt 
to  view  the  internal  construction  of  his  body,  and  hence 
the  sense  of  feeling  only  advises  him  of  that  which  lies 
within  his  own  self.  This  sense  is  abstract,  not  descrip- 
tive. Normal  organs  have  no  sensible  existence.  Thus 
an  abnormal  condition  of  an  organ  creates  the  sensation 
of  pain  or  pleasure,  but  discloses  nothing  concerning  the 
appearance  or  construction  of  the  organ  affected.  The 
perfect  liver  is  as  vacancy.  The  normal  brain  never 
throbs  and  aches.  The  quiescent  arm  presents  no  evi- 
dence to  the  mind  concerning  its  shape,  size,  or  color. 
Man  cannot  count  his  fingers  unless  some  outside  object 
touches  them  or  they  press  successively  against  each 
other,  or  he  perceives  them  by  sight.  The  brain  of  man, 
the  seat  of  knowledge,  in  which  mind  centres,  is  not 
perceptible  through  the  senses.  Does  it  not  seem  irra- 
tional, however,  to  believe  that  mind  itself  is  not  aware, 
or  could  not  be  made  cognizant,  of  the  nature  of  its  ma- 
terial surroundings?" 

"I  must  confess  that  I  have  not  given  the  subject  a 
thought,"  I  replied. 

"As  I  predicted,"  he  said.  "It  is  a  step  toward  a  new 
idea,  and  simple  as  it  seems,  now  that  the  subject  has 
been  suggested,  you  must  agree  that  thousands  of  intel- 
ligent men  have  not  been  able  to  formulate  the  thought. 
The  idea  had  never  occurred  to  them.  Even  after  our 
previous  conversation  concerning  the  possibility  of  show- 
ing you  your  own  brain,  you  were  powerless  and  could 
not  conceive  of  the  train  of  thought  which  I  started,  and 
along  which  I  shall  now  further  direct  your  senses. 

"The  eye  is  so  constituted  that  light  produces  an  im- 
pression on  a  nervous  film  in  the  rear  of  that  organ ;  this 
film  is  named  the  retina ;  the  impression  being  carried 
backward  therefrom  through  a  magma  of  nerve  fibres 
(the  optic  nerve),  and,  reaching  the  brain,  is  recorded 
on   that   organ,    and    thus   afifects   the    mind.     Is    it   not 


A  Challenge  147 

rational  to  suppose  it  possible  for  this  sequence  to  be 
reversed?  In  other  words,  if  the  order  were  reversed, 
could  not  the  same  set  of  nerves  carry  an  impression 
from  behind  to  the  retina,  and  picture  thereon  an  image 
of  the  object  which  lies  anterior  thereto,  to  be  again,  by 
reflex  action,  carried  back  to  the  brain,  thus  bringing 
the  brain  substance  itself  to  the  view  of  the  mind,  and 
thus  impress  the  senses?  To  recapitulate:  If  the  nerve 
sensation,  or  force  expression,  should  travel  from  the 
brain  to  the  retina,  instead  of  from  an  outward  object, 
it  will  on  the  reverse  of  the  retina  produce  the  image  of 
that  which  lies  behind,  and  then  if  the  optic  nerve  carry 
the  image  back  to  the  brain,  the  mind  will  bring  to  the 
senses  the  appearance  of  the  image  depicted  thereon." 

"This  is  my  first  consideration  of  the  subject,"  I  re- 
plied. 

"Exactly,"  he  said ;  "you  have  passed  through  life 
looking  at  outside  objects,  and  have  been  heedlessly  ig- 
norant of  your  own  brain.  You  have  never  made  an 
exclamation  of  surprise  at  the  statement  that  you  really 
see  a  star  that  exists  in  the  depths  of  space  millions  of 
miles  beyond  our  solar  system,  and  yet  you  became  in- 
credulous and  scornful  when  it  was  suggested  that  I 
could  show  you  how  you  could  see  the  configuration  of 
your  brain,  an  object  with  which  the  organ  of  sight  is 
nearly  in  contact.    How  inconsistent !" 

"The  chain  of  reasoning  is  certainly  novel,  and  yet  I 
cannot  think  of  a  mode  by  which  I  can  reverse  my 
method  of  sight  and  look  backward."  I  now  resoectfully 
answered. 

"It  is  very  simple ;  all  that  is  required  is  a  counter  ex- 
citation of  the  nerve,  and  we  have  with  us  to-night  what 
any  person  who  cares  to  investigate  the  subject  can  em- 
ploy at  any  time,  and  thus  behold  an  outline  of  a  part 
of  his  own  brain.    Let  me  give  you  the  lesson." 

Placing  himself  before  the  sashless  window  of  the 
cabin,  which  opening  appeared  as  a  black  space  pictured 
against  the  night,  the  sage  took  the  candle  in  his  right 


148  Etidorhpa 

hand,  holding  it  so  that  the  flame  was  just  below  the  tip 
of  the  nose  and  about  six  inches  from  his  face.  Then, 
facing  the  open  window,  he  turned  the  pupils  of  his 
€ves  upward,  seeming  to  fix  his  gaze  on  the  upper  part 
of  the  open  window  space,  and  then  he  slowly  moved 
the  candle  transversely  backward  and  forward  across  in 
front  of  his  face,  keeping  it  in  such  position  that  the 
flickering  flame  made  a  parallel  line  with  his  eyes,  and, 
as  just  remarked,  about  six  inches  from  his  face  and  just 
below  the  tip  of  his  nose.    Speaking  deliberately,  he  said  : 

"Now,  were  I  you,  this  movement  would  produce  a 
counter  irritation  of  the  retina ;  a  rhythm  of  the  optic 
nerve  would  follow,  a  reflex  action  of  the  brain  accom- 
panying, and  now  a  figure  of  part  of  the  brain  that  rests 
against  the  skull  in  the  back  of  my  head  w'ould  be  pic- 
tured on  the  retina.  I  would  see  it  plainly,  apparently 
pictured  or  thrown  across  the  open  space  before  me." 

'"Incredible!"  I  replied. 

"Try  for  yourself,"  quietly  said  my  guide. 

Placing  myself  in  the  position  designated,  I  repeated 
the  manoeuvre,  when  slowly  a  shadowy  something  seemed 
to  be  evolved  out  of  the  blank  space  before  me.  It 
seemed  to  be  as  a  gray  veil,  or  like  a  corrugated  sheet 
as  thin  as  gauze,  which,  as  I  gazed  upon  it  and  discov- 
ered its  outline,  became  more  apparent  and  real.  Soon 
the  convolutions  assumed  a  more  decided  form,  the  gray 
matter  was  visible,  filled  with  venations,  first  gray  and 
then  red,  and  as  I  became  familiar  with  the  sight,  sud- 
denly the  convolutions  of  the  brain  in  all  its  exactness, 
with  a  network  of  red  blood  venations,  burst  into  exist- 
ence.* 

I  beheld  a  brain,  a  brain,  a  living  brain,  my  own  brain, 
and  as  an  uncanny  sensation  possessed  me  I  shudder- 


*  This  experiment  is  not  claimed  as  original.  See  Purkinje's 
Beitrage  zur  Kenntniss  des  Sehens  in  subjectiver  Hinsicht 
(Prague,  1823  and  1825),  whose  conclusions  I-Am-the-Man 
ignores. — J.  U.  L. 


FACING    THK    OPKN    WINDOW    IIF.     riKNKI)     lUK    ITPILS    i)F    HIS    EYES 
Ll'WAKl)."' 


A  Challenge 


149 


ingly  stopped  the  motion  of  the  candle,  and  in  an  instant 
the  shadowy  figure  disappeared. 

"Have  I  won  the  wager?" 

"Yes,"  I  answered. 

■'Then,"  said  my  companion,  "make  no  further  investi- 
gations in  this  direction." 

"But  I  wish  to  verify  the  experiment,"  I  repHed.  "Al- 
though it  is  not  a  pleasant  test,  I  cannot  withstand  the 
temptation  to  repeat  it." 

And  again  I  moved  the  candle  backward  and  forward, 


A  BRAIN,  A  LIVING  BRAIN,   MY  OWN  BRAIN. 


when  the  figure  of  my  brain  sprung  at  once  into  exist- 
ence. 

"It  is  more  vivid,"  I  said ;  "I  see  it  plainer  and  more 
quickly  than  before." 

"Beware  of  the  science  of  man,  I  repeat,"  he  replied ; 
"now,  before  you  are  deep  in  the  toils  and  cannot  foresee 
the  end,  beware  of  the  science  of  human  biology. 

I  made  no  reply,  but  stood  with  my  face  fixed,  slowly 
moving  the  candle  backward  and  forward,  gazing  in- 
tently into  the  depths  of  my  own  brain. 

After  a  time  the  old  man   removed  the  candle   from 


150  Etidorhpa 

my  liand,  and  said :  "Do  you  accept  the  fact  ?  Have  I 
■demonstrated  the  truth  of  the  assertion?" 

"Yes,"  I  repHed ;  "but  tell  me  further,  now  that  you 
have  excited  my  interest,  have  I  seen  and  learned  all  that 
man  can  discover  in  this  direction?" 

"No;  you  have  seen  but  a  small  portion  of  the  brain 
convolutions,  only  those  that  lie  directly  back  of  the 
optic  nerve.  By  systematic  research,  under  proper  con- 
ditions, every  part  of  the  living  brain  may  become  as 
plainly  pictured  as  that  which  you  have  seen." 

"And  is  that  all  that  could  be  learned?"  I  asked. 

"No,"  he  continued.  "Further  development  may  en- 
able men  to  picture  the  figures  engraved  on  the  convolu- 
tions, and  at  last  to  read  the  thoughts  that  are  engraved 
within  the  brains  of  others,  and  thus  through  material 
investigation  the  observer  will  perceive  the  recorded 
thought  of  another  person.  An  instrument  capable  of 
searching  and  illuminating  the  retina  could  be  easily 
affixed  to  the  eye  of  a  criminal,  after  which,  if  the  mind 
of  the  person  operated  upon  were  stimulated  by  the  sug- 
gestion of  an  occurrence  either  remote  or  recent,  the 
mind  faculty  would  excite  the  brain,  produce  the  record, 
and  spread  the  circumstances  as  a  picture  before  the 
observer.  The  brain  would  tell  its  own  story,  and  the 
investigator  could  read  the  truth  as  recorded  in  the  brain 
of  the  other  man.  A  criminal  subjected  to  such  an  ex- 
amination could  not  tell  an  untruth  or  equivocate ;  his 
very  brain  would  present  itself  to  the  observer." 

"And  yovi  make  this  assertion,  and  then  ask  me  to  go 
no  further  into  the  subject?" 

"Yes;  decidedly  yes." 

"Tell  me,  then,  could  you  not  have  performed  this 
experiment  in  my  room,  or  in  the  dark  cellar  of  my 
house  ?" 

"Any  one  can  repeat  it  with  a  candle  in  any  room  not 
otherwise  lighted,  by  looking  at  a  blackboard,  a  blank 
wall,  or  black  space,"  he  said. 

I  was  indignant. 


A  Challenge  151 

"Why  have  you  treated  me  so  inhumanly?  Was  there 
a  necessity  for  this  journey,  these  mysterious  move- 
ments, this  physical  exertion?  Look  at  the  mud  with 
which  I  am  covered,  and  consider  the  return  trip  which 
yet  lies  before  me,  and  which  must  prove  even  more  ex- 
hausting?" 

"Ah,"  he  said,  "you  overdraw.  The  lesson  has  been 
easily  acquired.  Science  is  not  an  easy  road  to  travel. 
Those  who  propose  to  profit  thereby  must  work  circui- 
tously,  soil  their  hands  and  person,  meet  discouragements, 
and  must  expect  hardships,  reverses,  abuse,  and  dis- 
comfort. Do  not  complain,  but  thank  me  for  giving  you 
the  lesson  without  other  tribulations  that  might  have 
accompanied  it.  Besides,  there  was  another  object  in 
my  journey,  an  object  that  I  have  quietly  accomplished, 
and  which  you  may  never  know.  Come,  we  must  re- 
turn." 

He  extinguished  the  light  of  the  candle  and  we  de- 
parted together,  trudging  back  through  the  mud  and  the 
night. 

Of  that  wearisome  return  trip  I  have  nothing  to  say 
beyond  the  fact  that  before  reaching  home  my  com- 
panion disappeared  in  the  darkness  of  a  side  street,  and 
that  the  Cathedral  chimes  were  playing  for  three  o'clock 
A.  M.  as  I  passed  the  corner  of  Eighth  Street  and  West- 
ern Row. 

The  next  evening  my  visitor  appeared  as  usual,  and 
realizing  his  complete  victory,  he  made  no  reference  to 
the  occurrences  of  the  previous  night.  In  his  usual  calm 
and  deliberate  manner  he  produced  the  roll  of  manu- 
script, saying  benignantly  and  in  a  gentle  tone : 

"Do  you  recollect  where  I  left  off  reading?" 

"You  had  reached  that  point  in  your  narrative,"  I 
answered,  "at  which  your  guide  had  replaced  the  boat  on 
the  surface  of  the  lake." 

And  then  the  mysterious  being,  my  visitor,  resumed 
his  reading. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

PRIMARY    COLORS   ARE   CAPABLE   OF   FURTHER   SUBDIVISION. 

"Get  into  the  boat,"  said  my  eyeless  pilot,  "and  we  will 
proceed  to  the  farther  edge  of  the  lake,  over  the  barrier 
of  which,  at  great  intervals  of  time,  the  surface  water 
flows  and  induces  the  convulsion  known  as  Mount 
Epomeo." 

We  accordingly  embarked,  and  a  gentle  touch  of  the 
lever  enabled  us  rapidly  to  skirt  the  shore  of  the  under- 
ground sea.  The  soft,  bright,  pleasant  earth-light  con- 
tinually enveloped  us,  and  the  absence  of  either  exces- 
sive heat  or  cold  rendered  existence  delightful.  The 
weird  forms  taken  by  the  objects  that  successively  pre- 
sented themselves  on  the  shore  were  a  source  of  con- 
tinual delight  to  my  mind.  The  motion  of  our  boat  was 
constantly  at  the  will  of  my  guide.  Now  we  would  skim 
across  a  great  bay,  flashing  from  point  to  point ;  again 
we  wound  slowly  through  tortuous  channels  and  among 
partly  submerged  stones. 

"What  a  blessing  this  mode  of  locomotion  would  be 
to  humanity,"  I  murmured. 

"Humanity  will  yet  attain  it,"  he  replied.  "Step  by 
step  men  have  stumbled  along  tow^ard  the  goal  that  the 
light  of  coming  centuries  is  destined  to  illuminate.  They 
have  studied,  and  are  still  engaged  in  studying,  the  prop- 
erties of  grosser  forces,  such  as  heat  and  electricity,  and 
they  will  be  led  by  the  thread  they  are  following  to  this 
and  other  achievements  yet  unthought  of,  but  which  lie 
back  of  those  more  conspicuous." 

We  finally  reached  a  precipitous  bluff  that  sprang  to 
my  view  as  by  magic,  and  which,  with  a  glass-like  sur- 
face, stretched  upward  to  a  height  beyond  the  scope  of 
my  vision,  rising  straight  from  the  surface  of  the  lake. 


Hii 


\VK.    KlNALl.V    KKACHKl)    A    I'KE'JII'ITOIS    KUl-F." 


Primary  Colors  153 

It  was  composed  of  a  material  seemingly  black  as  jet, 
and  yet  when  seen  under  varying  spectacular  conditions 
as  we  skirted  its  base  it  reflected,  or  emitted,  most  gor- 
geously the  brilliant  hues  of  the  rainbow,  and  also  other 
colors  hitherto  unknown  to  me. 

"There  is  something  unique  in  these  shades ;  species  of 
color  appear  that  I  cannot  identify;  I  seem  to  perceive 
colors  utterly  unlike  any  that  I  know,  as  the  result  of 
deflected  or  transmitted  sunlight  rays ;  they  are  unlike 
the  combinations  of  primary  colors  with  which  I  am 
familiar." 

"Your  observations  are  true;  some  of  these  colors  are 
unknown  on  earth." 

"But  on  the  surface  of  the  earth  we  have  all  possible 
combinations  of  the  prismatic  rays,"  1  answered.  "How 
can  there  be  others  here?" 

"Because,  first,  your  primary  colors  are  capable  of  fur- 
ther subdivision. 

"Second,  other  rays,  invisible  to  men  under  usual  con- 
ditions, also  emanate  from  the  sun,  and  under  favorable 
circumstances  may  be  brought  to  the  sense  of  sight." 

"Do  you  assert  that  the  prism  is  capable  of  only  partly 
analyzing  the  sunlight?" 

"Yes ;  what  reason  have  you  to  argue  that  because  a 
triangular  bit  of  glass  resolves  a  white  ray  into  seven 
fractions  that  are,  as  men  say,  differently  colored,  you 
could  not  by  proper  methods  subdivide  each  of  these 
so-called  primary  shades  into  others?  What  reason  have 
you  to  doubt  that  rays  now  invisible  to  man  accompany 
those  capable  of  impressing  his  senses,  and  might,  by 
proper  methods,  become  perceptible  as  new  colors?" 

"None,"  I  answered ;  "only  that  I  have  no  proof  that 
such  rays  exist." 

"But  they  do  "3t,  and  men  will  yet  learn  that  the 
term  'primitive'  ray,  as  applied  to  each  of  the  seven 
colors  of  the  rainbow,  is  incorrect.  Each  will  yet  be  re- 
solved, and  as  Ou,  ^acuities  multiply  and  become  more 
subtle,   other  colors   will  be   developed,   possessed  of  a 


154  Etidorhpa 

delicacy  and  richness  indescribable  now,  for  as  yet  man 
cannot  comprehend  the  possibilities  of  education  beyond 
the  limits  of  his  present  condition." 

During  this  period  of  conversation  we  skirted  the 
richly  colored  bluff  with  a  rapid  motion,  and  at  last  shot 
beyond  it,  as  with  a  flash,  into  seeming  vacancy.  I  was 
sitting  with  my  gaze  directed  toward  the  bluff,  and 
when  it  instantly  disappeared,  I  rubbed  my  eyes  to  con- 
vince myself  of  their  truthfulnesss,  and  as  I  did  so  our 
boat  came  gradually  to  a  stand  on  the  edge  of  what  ap- 
peared to  be  an  unfathomable  abyss.  Beneath  me  on  the 
side  where  had  risen  the  bluff  that  disappeared  so 
abruptly,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  was  an  absolute 
void.  To  our  right,  and  before  and  behind  us,  stretched 
the  surface  of  that  great  smooth  lake  on  whose  bosom 
we  rested.  To  our  left,  our  boat  brushing  its  rim,  a  nar- 
row ledge,  a  continuation  of  the  black,  glass-like  material, 
reached  only  a  foot  above  the  water,  and  beyond  this 
narrow  brink  the  mass  descended  perpendicularly  to 
seemingly  infinite  depths.  Involuntarily  I  grasped  the 
sides  of  the  boat,  and  recoiled  from  the  frightful  chasm 
over  which  I  had  been  so  suddenly  suspended,  and  which 
exceeded  anything  of  a  similar  description  I  had  ever 
seen.  The  immeasurable  depth  of  the  abyss,  in  connec- 
tion with  the  apparently  frail  barrier  that  held  the  great 
lake  in  its  bounds,  caused  me  to  shudder  and  shrink  back, 
my  brain  reeled  in  dizzy  fright.  An  inexplicable  attrac- 
tion, however,  notwithstanding  my  dread,  held  me  spell- 
bound, and  although  I  struggled  to  shut  out  that  view, 
the  endeavor  failed.  I  seemed  to  be  drawn  by  an  irresist- 
ible power,  and  yet  I  shuddered  at  the  awful  majesty 
of  that  yawning  gulf  which  seemed  to  end  the  world  on 
which  I  then  existed.  Fascinated,  entranced,  I  could 
not  help  gazing,  I  knew  not  how  long,  down,  down  into 
that  fathomless,  silent  profundity.  Composing  myself, 
I  turned  a  questioning  glance  on  my  guide. 

He  informed  me  that  this  hard,  glass-like  dam  confined 
the  waters  of  the  slowly  rising  lake  that  we  were  sailing 


THK    WALL     DKSCKNl.KI,     LKK IKNI  ,]CL  LARLV     To    SKKMIMW.V    IXKIMTE 
IJKPTHS." 


Primary  Colors  155 

over,  and  which  finally  would  rise  high  enough  to  over- 
flow the  barrier. 

"The  cycle  of  the  periodic  overflow  is  measured  by 
great  intervals,"  he  said ;  "centuries  are  required  to  raise 
the  level  of  the  lake  a  fraction  of  an  inch  and  thousands 
of  years  may  elapse  before  its  surface  will  again  reach 
the  top  of  the  adamantine  wall.  Then,  governed  by  the 
law  that  attracts  a  liquid  to  itself,  and  heaps  the  teaspoon 
with  liquid,  the  waters  of  the  quiet  lake  piles  upon  this 
narrow  wall,  forming  a  ledge  along  its  summit.  Finally 
the  superimposed  surface  water  gives  way,  and  a  skim  of 
water  pours  over  into  the  abyss." 

He  paused ;  I  leaned  over  and  meditated,  for  I  had 
now  accustomed  myself  to  the  situation. 

"There  is  no  bottom,"  I  exclaimed. 

"Upon  the  contrary,"  he  answered,  "the  bottom  is  less 
than  ten  miles  beneath  us,  arnl  is  a  great  funnel-shaped 
orifice,  the  neck  of  the  funnel  reaching  first  down  and 
then  upward  from  us  diagonally  toward  the  surface  of 
the  earth.  Although  the  light  by  which  we  are  enveloped 
is  bright,  yet  it  is  deficient  in  penetrating  power,  and  is 
not  capable  of  giving  the  contour  of  objects  even  five 
miles  away,  hence  the  chasm  seems  bottomless  and  the 
gulf  measureless." 

Then  my  visitor  proceeded  to  discuss  the  subject  of 
volcanoes,  earthquakes,  geysers  and  allied  phenomena, 
after  which  my  pilot  abruptly  asked 

"What  do  you  most  desire?" 

The  question  caused  my  mind  to  revert  instantly  to 
my  old  home  on  the  earth  above  me,  and  although  I  felt 
the  hope  of  returning  to  it  spring  up  in  my  heart,  the 
force  of  habit  caused  me  involuntarily  to  answer,  "More 
light !" 

"More  light  being  your  desire,  you  shall  receive  it." 

Obedient  to  his  touch,  the  bow  of  the  boat  turned  from 
the  gulf  we  had  been  considering  toward  the  centre  of  the 
lake ;  the  responsive  craft  leaped  forward,  and  in  an  in- 
stant the  obsidian  parapet  disappeared  behind  us.     On 


156  Etidorhpa 

and  over  the  trackless  waste  of  glass-like  water  we  sped, 
until  the  dead  silence  became  painfully  oppressive,  and  I 
asked : 

"Whither  are  we  bound?" 

"Toward  the  east." 

The  well-timed  answer  raised  my  spirits ;  I  thought 
again  that  in  this  man,  despite  his  repulsive  shape,  I 
beheld  a  friend,  a  brother;  suspicion  vanished,  and  my 
courage  rose.  He  touched  the  lever,  and  the  craft,  sub- 
ject to  his  will,  nearly  rose  from  the  water,  and  sped 
with  amazing  velocity,  as  was  evident  from  the  appear- 
ance of  the  luminous  road  behind  us.  So  rapid  was  our 
flight  that  the  wake  of  the  boat  seemed  as  if  made  of 
rigid  parallel  lines  that  disappeared  in  the  distance,  too 
quick  for  the  eye  to  catch  the  tremor. 

Continuing  his  conversation,  my  companion  informed 
me  that  he  had  now  directed  the  bark  toward  a  point  east 
of  the  spot  where  we  struck  the  shore,  after  crossing  the 
lake,  in  order  that  we  might  continue  our  journey  down- 
ward, diagonally  to  the  under  surface  of  the  earth  crust. 

I  was  on  the  point  of  further  questioning  my  pilot 
when  the  motion  of  the  boat  was  suspended,  land  ap- 
peared ahead,  we  drew  up  to  it,  and  disembarked.  Lift- 
ing the  boat  from  the  water,  my  guide  placed  it  on  land 
at  the  edge  of  the  motionless  lake,  and  we  resumed  our 
journey.  The  scenery  seemed  but  little  changed  from 
that  of  the  latter  part  of  our  previous  line  of  travel  down 
the  inclined  plane  of  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake  that 
we  had  crossed.  The  direction  was  still  downward  after 
leaving  the  high  ridge  that  bordered  the  edge  of  the  lake, 
the  floor  of  the  cavern  being  usually  smooth,  although 
occasionally  it  was  rough  and  covered  with  stony  debris. 
The  mysterious  light  grew  perceptibly  brighter  as  we 
progressed,  the  fog-like  halo  previously  mentioned  be- 
came less  dense,  and  the  ring  of  obscurity  widened 
rapidly. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

I   CEASE  TO   BREATHE,   AND   YET   LIVE. 

During  this  conversation  we  had  been  rapidly  walking, 
or  I  should  better  say  advancing,  for  we  no  longer  walked 
as  men  do,  but  skipped  down  into  the  earth,  down,  ever 
downward.  There  were  long  periods  of  silence,  in  which 
I  was  engaged  in  meditating  over  the  problems  that  suc- 
cessively demanded  solution,  and  even  had  I  desired  to 
do  so  I  could  have  kept  no  record  of  time ;  days,  or  even 
weeks,  may  have  been  consumed  in  this  journey.  Neither 
have  I  any  method  of  judging  of  the  rapidity  of  our 
motion.  I  was  sensible  of  a  marked  decrease  in  the 
amount  of  muscular  energy  required  to  carry  us  onward, 
and  I  realized  that  my  body  was  quite  exempt  from 
weariness.  Motion  became  restful  instead  of  exhausting, 
and  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  ratio  of  the  loss  of  weight, 
as  shown  by  our  free  movements,  in  proportion  to  the  dis- 
tance we  traversed,  was  greater  than  formerly.  The 
gentlest  of  propelling  forc^  cast  us  rapidly  forward.  In- 
stead of  the  laborious,  short  step  of  upper  earth,  a  single 
leap  would  carry  us  many  yards.  A  slight  spring,  and 
with  our  bodies  in  space,  we  would  skip  several  rods, 
alighting  gently,  to  move  again  as  easily.  I  marvelled, 
for  although  I  had  been  led  to  anticipate  something  un- 
usual, the  practical  evidence  was  wonderfully  impressive, 
and  I  again  questioned  my  guide. 

"We  are  now  nearing  what  physicists  would  call  the 
centre  of  gravity,"  he  replied,  "and  our  weight  is  rapidly 
diminishing.  This  is  in  exact  accordance  with  the  laws 
that  govern  the  force  called  gravitation,  which,  at  the 
earth's  surface,  is  throughout  uniform,  excepting  the 
slight  deviation  observed  as  men  approach  the  poles. 
It   is   known   that   mountains   attract   objects,   and   that 


158 


Etidorhpa 


a  change  in  weight  as  we  descend  into  the  earth  is 
perceptible;  but  to  evolve  the  true  law,  observation  at  a 
distance  of  at  least  ten  miles  beneath  the  surface  of  the 
ocean,  is  necessary,  and  man,  being  a  creature  whose 
motions  are  confined  to  a  thin,  horizontal  skin  of  earth, 
has  never  been  one  mile  beneath  its  surface,  and  in  con- 
sequence his  opportunities  for  comparison  are  extremely 
limited." 

"I   have  been  taught,"   I  replied,  "that  the   force  of 


'we  would  skip  several  rods,  alighting  gently. 


gravitation  decreases  until  the  centre  of  the  earth  is 
reached,  at  which  point  a  body  is  without  weight ;  and  I 
can  scarcely  understand  how  such  positive  statements 
from  scientific  men  can  be  far  from  the  truth." 

"This  hypothesis,  though  a  stagger  toward  the  right,  is 
far  from  the  truth,  but  as  near  as  could  be  expected,  when 
we  consider  the  data  upon  which  men  base  their  calcula- 


I  Cease  to  Breathe  159 

tions.  Were  it  not  for  the  purpose  of  controverting  errone- 
ous views,  men  would  have  little  incentive  to  continue 
investigation,  and  as  has  been  the  rule  in  science  hereto- 
fore, the  truth  will,  in  time,  appear  in  this  case.  One  gen- 
eration of  students  disproves  the  accepted  theories  of  that 
which  precedes,  all  working  to  eliminate  error,  all  adding 
factors  of  error,  and  all  together  moving  toward  a  com- 
mon goal,  a  grand  generalization,  that  as  yet  cannot  be 
perceived.  And  still  each  series  of  workers  is  overlook- 
ing phenomena  that,  though  obvious,  are  yet  unperceived, 
but  which  will  make  evident  to  future  scientists  the  mis- 
takes of  the  present.  As  an  example  of  the  manner  in 
which  facts  are  thus  overlooked,  in  your  journey  you  have 
been  impressed  with  certain  surprising  external  con- 
ditions, or  surroundings,  and  yet  are  oblivious  to  con- 
ditions more  remarkable  in  your  own  body.  So  it  is  with 
scientists.  They  overlook  prominent  facts  that  stare  them 
boldly  in  the  face,  facts  that  are  so  conspicuous  as  to  be 
invisible  by  reason  of  their  very  nearness." 

"This  statement  I  cannot  disprove,  and  therefore  must 
admit  under  protest.  Where  there  is  so  much  that  ap- 
pears mysterious  I  may  have  overlooked  some  things,  but 
I  can  scarcely  accept  that,  in  ignorance,  I  have  passed 
conditions  in  my  own  organization  so  marked  as  this  de- 
crease in  gravity  which  has  so  strikingly  been  called  to 
my  attention.'' 

"You  have,  and  to  convince  you  I  need  only  say  that 
you  have  nearly  ceased  to  breathe,  and  are  unconscious  of 
the  fact." 

I  stopped  short,  in  momentary  alarm,  and  now  that  my 
mind  was  directed  to  the  fact,  I  became  aware  that  I  did 
not  desire  to  breathe,  and  that  my  chest  had  ceased  to 
heave  with  the  alternate  inhalation  and  exhalation  of 
former  times.  I  closed  my  lips  firmly,  and  for  a  long 
period  there  was  no  desire  for  breath,  then  a  slight  in- 
voluntary inhalation  followed,  and  an  exhalation,  scarcely 
noticeable,  succeeded  by  a  great  interval  of  inaction.  I 
impulsively  turned  my  face  toward  the  passage  we  had 


i6o 


Etidorhpa 


trod ;  a  feeling  of  alarm  possessed  me,  an  uncontrollable, 
inexpressible  desire  to  flee  from  the  mysterious  earth- 
being  beside  me,  to  return  to  men.  and  be  an  earth-surface 
man  again,  and  I  started  backward  through  the  chamber 
we  had  passed. 

The  guide  seized  me  by  the  hand,  "Hold,  hold,"  he 
cried;  "where  would  you  go,  fickle  mortal?" 

"To  the  surface,"  I  shouted ;  "to  daylight  again.  Un- 
hand me,  unearthly  creature,  abnormal  being,  man  or 


AN    UNCONTROLLABLE,    INEXPRESSIBLE    DESIRE   TO    FLEE. 


devil ;  have  you  not  inveigled  me  far  enough  into  occult 
realms  that  should  be  forever  sealed  from  mankind? 
Have  you  not  taken  from  me  all  that  men  love  or  cherish, 
and  undone  every  tie  of  kith  or  kin?  Have  you  not  led 
me  into  paths  that  the  imagination  of  the  novelist  dare  not 
conjure,  and  into  experiences  that  pen  in  human  hand 
would  not  venture  to  describe  as  possible,  until  I  now 
stand  with  my  feet  on  the  boundary  line  that  borders 
vacancy,  and  utter  loss  of  weight ;  with  a  body  nearly  lost 


I  Cease  to  Breathe  i6i 

as  a  material  substance,  verging  into  nothing,  and  lastly 
with  breath  practically  extinguished,  I  say,  and  repeat,  is 
it  not  time  that  I  should  hesitate  and  pause  in  my  reck- 
less career?" 

"It  is  not  time,"  he  answered. 

"When  will  that  hour  come?"  I  asked  in  desperation, 
and  I  trembled  as  he  replied : 

"When  the  three  Great  Lights  are  closed." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

""a    certain    point    within    a    sphere/' — MEN    ARE    AS 
PARASITES   ON    THE   ROOF   OF   EARTH. 

I  REALIZED  again,  as  I  had  so  many  times  before,  that 
it  was  useless  for  me  to  rebel.  "The  self-imposed 
mystery  of  a  sacrificed  life  lies  before  me,"  I  murmured, 
"and  there  is  no  chance  to  retrace  my  footsteps.  The 
'Beyond'  of  the  course  that  I  have  voluntarily  selected, 
and  sworn  to  follow,  is  hidden ;  I  must  nerve  myself  to 
pursue  it  to  the  bitter  end,  and  so  help  me  God,  and  keep 
me  steadfast." 

"Well  said,"  he  replied ;  "and  since  you  have  so  wisely 
determined,  I  am  free  to  inform  you  that  these  new 
obligations,  like  those  you  have  heretofore  taken,  contain 
nothing  which  can  conflict  with  your  duty  to  God,  vour 
country,  your  neighbor,  or  yourself. 

"In  considering  the  phenomena  presented  by  the  sus- 
pension of  the  act  of  breathing,  it  should  occur  to  you  that 
where  little  labor  is  to  be  performed,  little  consumption  of 
energy  is  required.  Where  there  is  such  a  trifling  de- 
struction of  the  vital  force  (not  mind  force)  as  at  pres- 
ent is  the  case  with  us,  it  requires  but  slight  respiration 
to  retain  the  normal  condition  of  the  body.  On  earth's 
surface  the  act  of  respiration  alone  consumes  by  far  the 
larger  proportion  of  vital  energy,  and  the  muscular  ex- 
ertion involved  thereby  necessitates  a  proportionate 
amount  of  breathing  in  order  that  breath  itself  may  con- 
tinue. This  act  of  respiration  is  the  result  of  one  of  the 
conditions  of  surface  earth  life,  and  consumes  most  of  the 
vital  force.  If  men  would  think  of  this,  they  would  un- 
derstand how  paradoxical  it  is  for  them  to  breathe  in 
order  to  live,  when  the  very  act  of  respiration  wears  away 
their  bodies  and  shortens  their  lives  more  than  all  else 


"A  Certain  Point  Within  a  Sphere"      163 

they  do,  and  without  adding  to  their  mental  or  physical 
constitution  in  the  least.  Men  are  conversant  with 
physical  death  as  a  constant  result  of  suspended  res- 
piration, and  with  respiration  as  an  accompaniment  of 
life,  while  ever  constant  and  connected  conditions  lead 
them  to  accept  that  the  act  of  breathing  is  a  necessity  of 
mortal  life.  In  reality,  man  occupies  an  unfortunate 
position  among  other  undeveloped  creatures  of  external 
earth ;  he  is  an  animal,  and  is  constitutionally  framed  like 
the  other  animals  about  him.  He  is  exposed  to  the  war- 
ring elements,  to  the  vicious  attacks  of  savage  beasts  and 
insidious  parasites,  and  to  the  inroads  of  disease.  He  is  a 
prey  to  the  elementary  vicissitudes  of  the  undesirable  ex- 
posure in  which  he  exists  upon  the  outer  surface  of  our 
globe,  where  all  is  war,  even  among  the  forces  of  Nature 
about  him.  These  conditions  render  his  lot  an  unhappy 
one  indeed,  and  in  ignorance  he  overlooks  the  torments 
of  the  weary,  rasping,  endless  slavery  of  respiration  in  the 
personal  struggle  he  has  to  undergo  in  order  to  retain  a 
brief  existence  as  an  organized  being.  Have  you  never 
thought  of  the  connected  tribulations  that  the  wear  and 
tear  of  respiration  alone  inflict  upon  the  human  family? 
The  heaving  of  the  chest,  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  the 
throbbing  of  the  heart,  continue  from  mortal  birth  until 
death.  The  heart  of  man  forces  about  two  and  one-half 
ounces  of  blood  with  each  pulsation.  At  seventy  beats 
per  minute  this  amounts  to  six  hundred  and  fifty-six 
pounds  per  hour,  or  nearly  eight  tons  per  day.  The  lungs 
respire  over  one  thousand  times  an  hour,  and  move  over 
three  thousand  gallons  of  air  a  day.  Multiply  these 
amounts  by  three  hundred  and  sixty-five,  and  then  by 
seventy,  and  you  have  partly  computed  the  enormous  life- 
work  of  the  lungs  and  heart  of  an  adult.  Over  two  hun- 
dred thousand  tons  of  blood  and  seventy-five  million  gal- 
lons of  air  have  been  moved  by  the  vital  force.  The 
energy  thus  consumed  is  dissipated.  No  return  is  made 
for  the  expenditure  of  this  life  force.  During  the  natural 
life  of  man,  more  energy  is  consequently  wasted  in  mate- 


1 64  Etidorhpa 

rial  transformation  resulting  from  the  motion  of  heart 
and  lungs  than  would  be  necessary  to  sustain  the  purely 
vital  forces  only,  for  a  thousand  years.  Besides,  the  act 
of  respiration  which  man  is  compelled  to  perform  in  his 
exposed  position  necessitates  the  consumption  of  large 
amounts  of  food,  in  order  to  preserve  the  animal  heat  and 
replace  the  waste  of  a  material  body  that  in  turn  is  worn 
out  by  these  very  movements.  Add  this  waste  of  energy 
to  the  foregoing,  and  then  you  will  surely  perceive  that 
the  possible  life  of  man  is  also  curtailed  to  another  and 
greater  degree  in  the  support  of  the  digestive  part  of  his 
organism.  His  spirit  is  a  slave  to  his  body ;  his  lungs  and 
heart,  on  which  he  imagines  life  depends,  are  unceasing 
antagonists  of  life.  That  his  act  of  breathing  is  now  a 
necessity  upon  the  surface  of  the  earth,  where  the  force 
of  gravity  presses  so  heavily,  and  where  the  elements  have 
men  at  their  command,  and  show  him  no  mercy,  I  will 
not  deny;  but  it  is  exasperating  to  contemplate  such  a 
waste  of  energy,  and  corresponding  loss  of  human  life." 

"You  must  admit,  however,  that  it  is  necessary?"  I 
queried. 

"No ;  only  to  an  extent ;  the  natural  life  of  man  should, 
and  yet  will  be,  doubled,  trebled,  multiplied  a  dozen,  yes 
a  thousand  fold." 

I  stepped  in  front  of  him ;  we  stood  facing  each  other. 

"Tell  me,"  I  cried,  "how  men  can  so  improve  their  con- 
dition as  to  lengthen  their  days  to  the  limit  you  name, 
and  let  me  return  to  surface  earth  a  carrier  of  the  glad 
tidings." 

He  shook  his  head. 

I  dropped  on  my  knees  before  him. 

"I  implore  you  in  behalf  of  that  unfortunate  humanity, 
of  which  I  am  a  member,  give  me  this  boon.  I  promise 
to  return  to  you  and  do  your  bidding.  Whatever  may  be 
my  subsequent  fate,  I  promise  to  acquiesce  therein  will- 
ingly." 

He  raised  aie  to  my  feet. 

"Be  of  good  cheer,"  he  said,  "and  in  the  proper  time 


"A  Certain  Point  Within  a  Sphere"      165 

you  may  return  to  the  surface  of  this  rind  of  earth,  a  car- 
rier of  great  and  good  news  to  men." 

"Shall  I  teach  them  of  what  you  have  shown  me?"  I 
asked. 

"Yes ;  in  part  you  will  be  a  forerunner,  but  before  you 
obtain  the  information  that  is  necessary  to  the  comfort 
of  mankind  you  will  have  to  visit  surface  earth  again,  and 
return  again,  perhaps  repeatedly.  You  must  prove  your- 
self as  men  are  seldom  proven.     The  journey  you  have 


I   DROPPED   ON    MY    KNEES   BEFORE    HIM. 


commenced  is  far  from  its  conclusion,  and  you  may  not  be 
equal  to  its  subsequent  trials;  prepare  yourself,  there- 
fore, for  a  series  of  events  that  may  unnerve  you.  If  you 
had  full  confidence  and  faith  in  your  guide,  you  would 
have  less  cause  to  fear  the  result,  but  your  suspicious 
human  nature  cannot  overcome  the  shrinking  sensation 
that  is  natural  to  those  who  have  been  educated  as  you 
have  been  amid  the  changing  vicissitudes  of  the  earth's 
surface,  and  you  cannot  but  be  incredulous  by  reason  of 
that  education." 


1 66  Etidorhpa 

Then  I  stopped  as  I  observed  before  me  a  peculiar  fun- 
gus— peculiar  because  it  was  unlike  all  others  I  had  seen. 
The  convex  part  of  its  bowl  was  below,  and  the  great 
head,  as  an  inverted  toadstool,  stood  upright  on  a  short, 
stem-like  pedestal.  The  gills  within  were  of  a  deep  green 
color,  and  curved  out  from  the  centre  in  the  form  of  a 
spiral.  This  form,  however,  was  not  the  distinguishing 
feature,  for  I  had  before  observed  specimens  that  were 
spiral  in  structure.  The  extraordinary  peculiarity  was 
that  the  gills  were  covered  with  fruit.  This  fruit  was 
likewise  green  in  color,  each  spore,  or  berry,  being  from 
two  to  three  inches  in  diameter,  and  honeycombed  on  the 
surface,  corrugated  most  beautifully.  I  stopped,  leaned 
over  the  edge  of  the  great  bowl,  and  plucked  a  specimen 
of  the  fruit.  It  seemed  to  be  covered  with  a  hard,  trans- 
parent shell,  and  to  be  nearly  full  of  a  clear,  green  liquid. 
I  handled  and  examined  it  in  curiosity,  at  which  my  guide 
seemed  not  to  be  surprised.  Regarding  me  attentively,  he 
said : 

"What  is  it  that  impels  a  mortal  toward  this  fruit?" 

"It  is  curious,"  I  said  ;  "nothing  more." 

"As  for  that,"  said  he,  "it  is  not  curious  at  all;  the 
seed  of  the  lobelia  of  upper  earth  is  more  curious,  be- 
cause, while  it  is  as  exquisitely  corrugated,  it  is  also 
microscopically  small.  In  the  second  place,  you  err  when 
you  say  it  is  simply  curious,  'nothing  more,'  for  no  mortal 
ever  yet  passed  that  bowl  without  doing  exactly  as  you 
have  done.  The  vein  of  curiosity,  were  it  that  alone 
which  impels  you,  could  not  but  have  an  exception." 

Then  he  cracked  the  shell  of  the  fruit  by  striking  it  on 
the  stony  floor,  and  carefully  opened  the  shell,  handing 
me  one  of  the  halves  filled  with  a  green  fluid.  As  he  did 
so  he  spoke  the  single  word,  "Drink,"  and  I  did  as  di-. 
rected.  He  stood  upright  before  me,  and  as  I  looked  him 
in  the  face  seemingly,  without  a  reason  he  struck  off  into 
a  dissertation,  apparently  as  distinct  from  our  line  of 
thought  as  a  disconnected  subject  could  be,  as  follows : 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

DRUNKENNESS. THE    DRINKS    OF    MAN. 

"Intemperance  has  been  the  vice  of  every  people,  and 
is  prevalent  in  all  climes,  notwithstanding  that  intoxi- 
cants, properly  employed,  may  serve  humanity's  highest 
aims.  Beginning  early  in  the  history  of  a  people,  the 
disease  increases  with  the  growth  of  a  nation,  until,  at 
last,  unless  the  knife  is  used,  civilization  perishes.  A 
lowly  people  becomes  more  depraved  as  the  use  of  liquor 
increases ;  a  cultivated  people  passes  backward  into  bar- 
barism with  the  depravities  that  come  from  dissipation. 
Here  nations  meet,  and  individuals  sink  to  a  common 
level.  No  drinking  man  is  strong  enough  to  say,  'I  can- 
not become  dissipated ;'  no  nation  is  rich  and  cultivated 
enough  to  view  the  debauch  of  its  people  without  alarm. 

"The  disgusting  habit  of  the  drunken  African  finds  its 
counterpart  in  the  lascivious  wine-bibber  of  aristocratic 
society.  To  picture  the  indecencies  of  society,  that  may 
be  charged  to  debauchery,  when  the  Grecian  and  Roman 
empires  were  at  the  height  of  greatness,  would  obscure 
the  orgies  of  the  barbarous  African,  and  make  preferable 
the  brutality  of  the  drunken  American  Indian.  Intem- 
perance brings  men  to  the  lowest  level,  and  holds  its 
power  over  all  lands  and  all  nations." 

"Did  the  aborigines  know  how  to  make  intoxicants,  and 
were  barbarians  intemperate  before  contact  with  civilized 
nations?" 

"Yes." 

"But  I  have  understood  that  drunkenness  is  a  vice  in- 
herent only  in  civilized  people;  are  not  you  mistaken?" 

"No.  Every  clime,  even  to  Greenland,  where  the 
natives  make  a  disgusting  intoxicant  of  a  peculiar  fungus, 


1 68  Etidorhpa 

furnishes  intoxicants,  and  people  of  all  climes  use  them. 
I  will  tell  you  part  of  this  record  of  nations. 

"The  Nubians  make  a  barley  beer  which  they  call 
bouze,  and  also  a  wine,  from  the  palm  tree.  The  savages 
of  Africa  draw  the  clear,  sweet  juice  of  the  palm  oil  tree 
into  a  gourd,  in  the  morning,  and  by  night  it  becomes  a 
violent  intoxicant.  The  natives  of  the  Malayan  Archipel- 
ago ferment  and  drink  the  sap  of  the  flower  stems  of  the 
cocoanut.  The  Tartar  tribes  make  an  intoxicating  drink 
from  mare's  milk,  called  koomis.  In  South  America  the 
natives  drink  a  vile  compound,  called  cana,  distilled  from 
sugar  cane ;  and  in  the  Sandwich  Islands,  the  shrub  kava 
supplies  the  intoxicant  kava-kava,  drunk  by  all  the  in- 
habitants, from  king  to  slave,  and  mother  to  child.  In 
the  heart  of  Africa,  cannibal  tribes  make  leg>'ce  of  a 
cereal,  and  indulge  in  wild  orgies  over  their  barbaric  cup. 
In  North  America  the  Indians,  before  Columbus  dis- 
covered America,  made  an  intoxicating  drink  of  the  sap 
of  the  maple  tree.  The  national  drink  of  the  Mexicans 
is  pulque,  a  beastly  intoxicant,  prepared  from  the  Agave 
Americana.  Mead  is  an  alcoholic  drink,  made  of  honey, 
and  used  in  many  countries.  In  China  wine  was  indulged 
in  from  the  earliest  day,  and  in  former  times,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  influence  of  their  philosophers,  especially 
Confucius,  who  foresaw  the  end,  the  Chinese  nation 
would  have  perished  from  drunkenness.  Opium,  that 
fearful  enslaver  of  millions  of  human  beings,  is  in  every 
sense  a  narcotic  intoxicant,  and  stands  conspicuous  as  an 
agent,  capable  of  being  either  a  friend,  a  companion,  or  a 
master,  as  man  permits.  History  fails  to  indicate  the  date 
of  its  introduction  to  humanity.  In  South  America  the 
leaf  of  the  coca  plant  is  a  stimulant  scarcely  less  to  be 
dreaded  than  opium.  The  juice  of  a  species  of  asclepias 
produces  the  intoxicant  soma,  used  once  by  the  Brahmins, 
not  only  as  a  drink,  but  also  in  sacrificial  and  religious 
ceremonies.  Many  different  flavored  liquors  made  of 
palm,  cocoanuts,  sugar,  pepper,  honey,  spices,  etc.,  were 
used  bv  native  Hindoos,  and  as  intoxicants  have  been  em- 


Drunkenness. — The  Drinks  of  Man     169 

ployed  from  the  earliest  days  in  India.  The  Vedic  people 
were  fearfully  dissipated,  and  page  after  page  of  that 
wonderful  sacred  book,  the  Rigveda  is  devoted  to  the 
habit  of  drunkenness.  The  worst  classes  of  drunkards  of 
India  used  Indian  hemp  to  make  bhang,  or  combined  the 
deadly  narcotic  stramonium  with  arrack,  a  native  beer, 
to  produce  a  poisonous  intoxicant.  In  that  early  day  the 
inhabitants  of  India  and  China  were  fearfully  depraved 
drunkards,  and  but  for  the  reforms  instituted  by  their 
wise  men  must  have  perished  as  a  people.  Parahaoma,. 
or  'homa,'  is  an  intoxicant  made  from  a  lost  plant  that  is 
described  as  having  yellow  blossoms,  used  by  the  ancient 
dissolute  Persians  from  the  day  of  Zoroaster.  Cannabis 
sativa  produces  an  intoxicant  that  in  Turkeyis  known  as 
hadschy.  in  Arabia  and  India  as  hashish,  and  to  the  Hot- 
tentots as  dacha,  and  serves  as  a  drunkard's  food  in  other 
lands.  The  fruit  of  the  juniper  produces  gin,  and  the  fer- 
mented juice  of  the  grape,  or  malt  liquors,  in  all  civilized 
countries  are  the  favorite  intoxicants,  their  origin  being 
lost  in  antiquity.  Other  substances,  such  as  palm,  apples, 
dates,  and  pomegranates,  have  also  been  universally  em- 
ployed as  drink  producers. 

"Go  where  you  will,  man's  tendency  seems  to  be  toward 
the  bowl  that  inebriates,  and  yet  it  is  not  the  use  but  the 
abuse  of  intoxicants  that  man  has  to  dread.  Could  he  be 
temperate,  exhilarants  would  befriend." 

"But  here,"  I  replied,  "in  this  underground  land,  where 
food  is  free,  and  existence  possible  without  an  efifort,  this 
shameful  vice  has  no  existence.  Here  there  is  no  in- 
centive to  intemperance,  and  even  though  man  were  pres- 
ent with  his  inherent  passion  for  drink,  he  could  not  find 
means  to  gratify  his  appetite." 

"Ah,"  my  guide  replied,  "that  is  an  error.  Why  should 
this  part  of  the  earth  prove  an  exception  to  the  general 
rule?  Nature  always  supplies  the  means,  and  man's  in- 
stinct teaches  him  how  to  prepare  an  intoxicant.  So  long 
as  man  is  human  his  passions  will  rule.  If  you  should 
prove  unequal  to  the  task  you  have  undertaken,  if  you 


170  Etidorhpa 

shrink  from  your  journey,  and  turn  back,  the  chances  are 
you  will  fail  to  reach  the  surface  of  the  earth.  You  will 
surely  stop  in  the  chamber  which  we  now  approach,  and 
which  I  have  now  prepared  you  to  enter,  and  will  then 
become  one  of  a  band  of  earth  drunkards ;  having  all  the 
lower  passions  of  a  mortal  you  will  yet  be  lost  to  the 
virtues  of  man.  In  this  chamber  those  who  falter  and 
turn  back  stop  and  remain  for  all  time,  sinking  until  they 
become  lower  in  the  human  scale  than  any  drunkard  on 
earth.  Without  any  restraining  influence,  without  a  care, 
without  necessity  of  food  or  incentive  to  exertion,  in  this 
habitation,  where  heat  and  cold  are  unknown,  and  no 
motive  for  self-preservation  exists,  they  turn  their 
thoughts  toward  the  ruling  passion  of  mankind  and — 
Listen  !     Do  you  not  hear  them  ?     Listen  ?" 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

THE  drunkard's  VOICE. 

Then  I  noticed  a  medley  of  sounds  seemingly  rising 
out  of  the  depths  beyond  us.  The  noise  was  not  such  as 
to  lead  me  to  infer  that  persons  were  speaking  coherently, 
but  rather  resembled  a  jargon  such  as  might  come  from  a 
multitude  of  persons  talking  indiscriminately  and  aim- 
lessly. It  was  a  constant  volley,  now  rising  and  now  fall- 
ing in  intensity,  as  though  many  persons  regardless  of 
one  another  were  chanting  different  tunes  in  that  peculiar 
sing-song  tone  often  characteristic  of  the  drunkard.  As 
we  advanced  the  noise  became  louder  and  more  of  a 
medley,  until  at  last  we  were  surrounded  by  confusion. 
Then  a  single  voice  rose  up  strong  and  full,  and  at  once, 
from  about  us,  close  to  us,  yes,  against  our  very  persons, 
unearthly  cries  and  shrieks  smote  my  ears.  I  could  dis- 
tinguish words  of  various  tongues,  English,  Irish,  Ger- 
man, and  many  unfamiliar  and  disjointed  cries,  impre- 
cations, and  maledictions.  The  cavern  about  seemed  now 
to  be  resonant  with  voices — shrieks,  yells,  and  maniacal 
cries  commingled — and  yet  no  form  appeared.  As  we 
rushed  onward,  for  now  my  guide  grasped  my  arm  tightly 
and  drew  me  rapidly  down  the  cavern  floor,  the  voices 
subsided,  and  at  length  sounded  as  if  behind  us.  Now, 
however,  it  seemed  as  though  innumerable  arrows,  each 
possessed  of  a  whistle  or  tone  of  its  own,  were  in  wave- 
like gusts  shrieking  by  us.  Coming  from  in  front,  they 
burst  in  the  rear.  Stopping  to  listen,  I  found  that  a  con- 
nection could  be  traced  between  the  screech  of  the  arrow- 
like shriek  and  a  drunkard's  distant  voice.  It  seemed  as 
though  a  rocket  made  of  an  escaping  voice  would  scream 
past,  and  bursting  in  the  cavern  behind,  where  I  stood 
when  the  frightful   voices  were  about  me,  would  there 


1^2  Etidorhpa 

liberate  a  human  cry.  Now  and  then  all  but  a  few  would 
subside,  to  burst  out  with  increased  violence,  as  if  a  flight 
of  rockets  each  with  a  cry  of  its  own  would  rush  past, 
to  be  followed  after  their  explosion  in  the  rear  by  a 
medley  of  maniacal  cries,  songs,  shrieks,  and  groans,  com- 
mingled. It  was  as  though  a  shell  containing  a  voice  that 
escaped  slowly  as  by  pressure  from  an  orifice  were  fired 
past  my  ears,  to  explode  and  liberate  the  voice  within  my 
hearing.  The  dreadful  utterance  was  not  an  echo,  was 
not  hallucination,  it  was  real. 

I  stopped  and  looked  at  my  guide  in  amazement.  He 
explained :  "Did  you  not  sometime  back  experience  that 
your  own  voice  was  then  thrown  from  your  body?" 

"Yes,"  I  answered. 

"These  crazed  persons  or  rather  depraved  experiences 
are  shouting  in  the  cavern  beyond,"  he  said.  "They  are 
in  front ;  their  voices  pass  us  to  burst  into  expression  in 
the  rear." 

Then,  even  as  he  spoke,  from  a  fungus  stalk  near  us 
a  hideous  creature  unfolded  itself,  and  shambled  to  my 
side.  It  had  the  frame  of  a  man,  and  yet  it  moved  like  a 
serpent,  writhing  toward  me.  I  stepped  back  in  horror, 
but  the  tall,  ungainly  creature  reached  out  an  arm  and 
grasped  me  tightly.  Leaning  over,  he  placed  his  ugly 
mouth  close  to  my  ear,  and  moaned :  "Back,  back,  go  thou 
back." 

I  made  no  reply,  being  horror-stricken. 

"Back,  I  say,  back  to  earth,  or" — 

He  hesitated,  and  still  possessed  of  fear,  and  unable  to 
reply,  I  was  silent. 

"Then  go  on,"  he  said,  "on  to  your  destiny,  unhappy 
man,"  and  slinking  back  to  the  fungus  whence  he  arose, 
he  disappeared  from  sight. 

"Come,"  said  my  guide,  "let  us  pass  the  Drunkard's 
Den.  This  was  but  a  straggler ;  nerve  yourself,  summon 
all  the  strength  at  your  command,  for  his  companions 
will  soon  surround  us." 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 


THE  DRUNKARD  S  DEN, 


As  we  progressed  the  voices  in  our  rear  became  more 
faint,  and  yet  the  whistHng  volleys  of  screeching  voice 
bombs  passed  us  as  before.  1  shuddered  in  anticipation 
of  the  sight  that  was  surely  to  meet  our  gaze,  and  could 
not  but  tremble  for  fear.  Then  I  stopped  and  recoiled, 
for  at  my  very  feet  I  beheld  a  huge,  living  human  head.  It 
rested  on  the  solid  rock,  and  had  I  not  stopped  suddenly 
when  I  did,  I  should  have  kicked  it  at  the  next  leap.  The 
€yes  of  the  monster  were  fixed  in  supplication  on  my  face  ; 
the  great  brow  indicated  intelligence,  the  finely  cut  mouth 
denoted  refinement,  the  well-modelled  head  denoted  brain, 
but  the  whole  constituted  a  monster.  The  mouth  opened, 
and  a  whizzing,  arrow  voice  swept  past,  I  heard  the 
screech  of  the  passing  voice  shaft,  and  yet  the  bursting 
cry  was  lost  in  the  distance. 

"What  is  this?"  I  gasped. 

"The  fate  of  a  drunkard,"  my  guide  replied.  "This 
was  once  an  intelligent  man,  but  now  he  has  lost  his  body, 
and  enslaved  his  soul,  in  the  den  of  drink  beyond  us,  and 
has  been  brought  here  by  his  comrades,  who  thus  rid 
themselves  of  his  presence.  Here  he  must  rest  eternally. 
He  cannot  move,  he  has  but  one  desire,  drink,  and  that 
craving,  deeper  than  life,  cannot  be  satiated." 

"But  he  desires  to  speak ;  speak  lower,  man,  or  head  of 
man,  if  you  wish  me  to  know  your  wants,"  I  said,  and 
leaned  toward  him. 

Then  the  monster  whispered,  and  I  caught  the  words : 

"Back,  back,  go  thou  back !" 

I  made  no  reply. 

"Back  I  say,  back  to  earth  or" — 

Still  I  remained  silent. 


174  Etidorhpa 

''Then  go  on,"  he  said ;  "on  to  your  destiny,  unhappy 
man." 

"This  is  horrible,"  I  muttered. 

"Come,"  said  the  guide,  "let  us  proceed." 

And  we  moved  onward. 

"Now  I  perceived  many  such  heads  about  us,  all  resting 
upright  on  the  stony  floor.  Some  were  silent,  others 
were  shouting,  others  still  were  whispering  and  endeavor- 
ing to  attract  my  attention.  As  we  hurried  on  I  saw 
more  and  yet  more  of  these  abnormal  creatures.  Some 
were  in  rows,  resting  against  each  other,  leaving  barely 
room  for  us  to  pass,  but  at  last,  much  to  my  relief,  we 
left  them  behind  us. 

But  I  found  that  I  had  no  cause  for  congratulation, 
when  I  felt  myself  clutched  by  a  powerful  hand — a  hand 
as  large  as  that  of  a  man  fifty  feet  in  height.  I  looked 
about  expecting  to  see  a  gigantic  being,  but  instead  beheld 
a  shrunken  pigmy.  The  whole  man  seemed  but  a  single 
hand — a  Brobdingnag  hand  affixed  to  the  body  of  a  Lil- 
liputian. 

"Do  not  struggle,"  said  the  guide;  "listen  to  what  he 
wishes  to  impart." 

I  leaned  over,  placing  my  ear  close  to  the  mouth  of  the 
monstrosity. 

"Back,  back,  go  thou  back,"  it  whispered. 

"What  have  I  to  fear?"  I  asked. 

"Back,  I  say,  back  to  earth,  or" — 

"Or  what?"  I  said. 

"Then  go  on  ;  on  to  your  destiny,  unhappy  man,"  he 
answered,  and  the  hand  loosed  its  grasp. 

My  guide  drew  me  onward. 

Then,  from  about  us,  huge  hands  arose ;  on  all  sides 
they  waved  in  the  air ;  some  were  closed  and  were  shaken 
as  clenched  fists,  others  moved  aimlessly  with  spread 
fingers,  others  still  pointed  to  the  passage  we  had. 
traversed,  and  in  a  confusion  of  whispers  I  heard  from 
the  pigmy  figures  a  babel  of  cries,  "Back,  back,  go  thou, 
back."    Again  I  hesitated,  the  strain  upon  my  nerves  was. 


KACH    KIXOKK    POIXTKi,     I.,\VAK1>S    THK    ..PKN    WAV    IN    FROM. 


HAMU.Ni.    .Mi:    .)M.    OK      lllK     I1AL\KS, 

'  DRINK  '.' 


HK     Sl'OKK     THK     SIXCJI.K     WORD 


The  Drunkard's  Den  175 

becoming  unbearable ;  I  glanced  backward  and  saw  a 
swarm  of  misshaped  diminutive  forms,  each  holding  up  a 
monstrous  arm  and  hand.  The  passage  behind  us  was 
closed  against  retreat.  Every  form  possessed  but  one 
hand,  the  other  and  the  entire  body  seemingly  had  been 
drawn  into  this  abnormal  member.  While  I  thus  medi- 
tated, momentarily,  as  by  a  single  thought  each  hand 
closed,  excepting  the  index  finger,  and  in  unison  each 
finger  pointed  toward  the  open  way  in  front,  and  like 
shafts  from  a  thousand  bows  I  felt  the  voices  whiz  past 
me,  and  then  from  the  rear  came  the  reverberation  as  a 
complex  echo,  "Then  go  on ;  on  to  your  destiny,  unhappy 
man." 

Instinctively  I  sprang  forward,  and  had  it  not  been  for 
the  restraining  hand  of  my  guide  would  have  rushed 
wildly  into  passages  that  might  have  ended  my  misery, 
for  God  only  knows  what  those  unseen  corridors  con- 
tained. I  was  aware  of  that  which  lay  behind,  and  was 
only  intent  on  escaping  from  the  horrid  figures  already 
passed. 

"Hold,"  whispered  the  guide ;  "as  you  value  your  life, 
stop." 

And  then  exerting  a  power  that  I  could  not  withstand, 
he  held  me  a  struggling  prisoner. 

"Listen,"  he  said,  "have  you  not  observed  that  these 
creatures  do  not  seek  to  harm  you  ?  Have  not  all  of  them 
spoken  kindly,  have  any  offered  violence?" 

"No,"  I  replied,  "but  they  are  horrible." 

"That  they  too  realize ;  but  fearing  that  you  will  prove 
to  be  as  weak  as  they  have  been,  and  will  become  as  they 
are  now,  they  warn  you  back.  However,  I  say  to  you,  if 
you  have  courage  sufBcient,  you  need  have  no  fear. 
Come,  rely  on  me,  and  do  not  be  surprised  at  anything 
that  appears." 

Again  we  went  forward.  I  realized  now  my  utter  help- 
lessness. I  became  indifferent  again ;  I  could  neither  re- 
trace my  footsteps  alone,  nor  guide  them  forward  in  the 
path  I  was  to  pursue.    Relying  submissively  on  my  guide, 


1 76  Etidorhpa 


as  stoical  as  he  appeared  to  be,  I  moved  onward  to  new 
scenes. 

We  came  to  a  great  chamber,  which,  as  we  halted  on  its 
edge,  seemed  to  be  a  prodigious  amphitheatre.  In  its  cen- 
tre a  rostrum-like  stone  of  a  hundred  feet  in  diameter, 
flat  and  circular  on  the  top,  reared  itself  about  twelve 
feet  above  the  floor,  and  to  the  base  of  this  rostrum 
the  floor  of  the  room  sloped  evenly.  The  amphitheatre 
was  fully  a  thousand  feet  in  diameter,  of  great  height,  and 
the  floor  was  literally  alive  with  grotesque  beings. 
Imagination  could  not  depict  an  abnormal  human  form 
that  did  not  exhibit  itself  to  my  startled  gaze.  One 
peculiarity  incident  to  all  now  presented  itself  to  my 
mind ;  each  abnormal  part  seemed  to  be  created  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  remainder  of  the  body.  Thus,  to  my  right 
I  beheld  a  single  leg,  fully  twelve  feet  in  height,  sur- 
mounted by  a  puny  human  form,  which  on  this  one  leg 
hopped  ludicrously  away.  I  saw  close  behind  this  huge 
limb  a  great  ear  attached  to  a  small  head  and  body ;  then 
a  nose  so  large  that  the  figure  to  which  it  was  attached 
was  forced  to  hold  the  face  upward,  in  order  to  prevent 
the  misshaped  organ  from  rubbing  on  the  stony  floor. 
Here  a  gigantic  forehead  rested  on  a  shrunken  face  and 
body,  and  there  a  pair  of  enormous  feet  were  walking, 
seemingly  attached  to  the  body  of  a  child,  and  yet  the 
face  was  that  of  a  man.  If  an  artist  were  to  attempt 
to  create  as  many  revolting  or  fantastic  figures  as  pos- 
sible, each  with  some  member  out  of  proportion  to  the 
rest  of  the  body,  he  could  not  add  one  form  to  those  upon 
this  floor.  And  yet,  I  again  observed  that  each  exag- 
gerated organ  seemed  to  have  drawn  itself  into  existence 
by  absorbing  the  remainder  of  the  body.  We  stood  on 
the  edge  of  this  great  room,  and  I  pondered  over  the  scene 
before  my  eyes.    At  length  my  guide  broke  the  silence: 

"You  must  cross  this  floor ;  no  other  passage  is  known. 
Mark  well  my  words,  heed  my  advice. 

'This  is  the  Drunkards'  Den.  These  men  are  lost  to 
themselves  and  to  the  world.     Every  member  of  this  as- 


The  Drunkard's  Den  i  yj 

sembly  once  passed  onward  as  you  are  now  doing,  in 
charge  of  a  guide.  They  failed  by  reason  of  lack  of 
courage  to  reach  the  goal  to  which  you  aspire,  and  re- 
treating, reached  this  chamber,  to  become  victims  to  the 
drink  habit.  Some  of  these  creatures  have  been  here  for 
ages,  others  only  for  a  short  period." 

"Why  are  they  so  distorted?"  I  asked. 

"Because  matter  is  now  only  partly  subservient  to  will," 
he  replied.  "The  intellect  and  mind  of  a  drunkard  on 
surface  earth  becomes  abnormal  by  the  influence  of  an  in- 
toxicant, but  his  real  form  is  unseen,  although  evidently 
misshapen  and  partly  subject  to  the  perception  of  a  few 
only  of  his  fellow-men.  Could  you  see  the  inner  form 
of  an  earth-surface  drunkard,  you  would  perceive  as  great 
a  mental  monstrosity  as  is  any  physical  monster  now  be- 
fore you,  and  of  the  two  the  physically  abnormal  creature 
is  really  the  least  objectionable.  Could  you  see  the  mind 
configurations  of  an  assembly  of  surface  earth  topers,  you 
would  perceive  a  class  of  beings  as  much  distorted  men- 
tally as  are  these  physically.  A  drunkard  is  a  monstrosity. 
On  surface  earth  the  mind  becomes  abnormal ;  here  the 
body  suffers." 

"Why  is  it,"  I  asked,  "that  parts  of  these  creatures 
shrink  away  as  some  special  organ  increases?" 

"Because  the  abnormal  member  can  grow  only  by  ab- 
stracting its  substance  from  the  other  portions  of  the 
body.  An  increasing  arm  enlarges  itself  by  drawing  its 
strength  from  the  other  parts,  hence  the  body  withers  as 
the  hand  enlarges,  and  in  turn  the  hand  shrinks  when  the 
leg  increases  in  size.  The  substance  of  the  individual  re- 
mains about  the  same. 

"Men  on  earth  judge  of  men  not  by  what  they  are,  but 
by  what  they  seem  to  be.  The  physical  form  is  apparent 
to  the  sense  of  sight,  the  real  man  is  unseen.  However,  as 
the  boot  that  encloses  a  foot  cannot  altogether  hide  the 
form  of  the  foot  within  it,  so  the  body  that  encloses  the 
life  entity  cannot  but  exhibit  here  and  there  the  character 
of  the  dominating  spirit  within.     Thus  a  man's  features 


178  Etidorhpa 

may  grow  to  indicate  the  nature  of  the  enclosed  spirit,  for 
the  controlling  character  of  that  spirit  will  gradually  im- 
press itself  on  the  material  part  of  man.  Even  on  surface 
earth,  where  the  matter  side  of  man  dominates,  a  vicious 
spirit  will  produce  a  villainous  countenance,  a  mediocre 
mind  a  vapid  face,  and  an  amorous  soul  will  even  pro- 
ject the  anterior  part  of  the  skull. 

"Carry  the  same  law  to  this  location,  and  it  will  be  seen 
that  as  mind,  or  spirit,  is  here  the  master,  and  matter  is 
the  slave,  the  same  rule  should,  under  natural  law,  tend 
to  produce  the  abnormal  figures  you  now  perceive. 
Hence  the  part  of  a  man's  spirit  that  is  endowed  most 
highly  sways  the  corresponding  part  of  his  physical  body 
at  the  expense  of  the  remainder.  Gradually  the  form  is 
altered  under  the  relaxing  influence  of  this  fearful  intra- 
earth  intoxicant,  and  eventually  but  one  conspicuous 
organ  remains  to  tell  the  story  of  the  symmetrical  man 
who  formerly  existed.  Then,  when  he  is  no  longer  ca- 
pable of  self-motion,  the  comrades  carry  the  drunkard's 
fate,  which  is  the  abnormal  being  you  have  seen,  into  the 
selected  corridor,  and  deposit  it  among  others  of  its  kind, 
as  in  turn  the  bearers  are  destined  sometime  to  be  carried 
by  others.  We  reached  this  cavern  through  a  corridor 
in  which  heads  and  arms  were  abnormal,  but  in  others 
may  be  found  great  feet,  great  legs,  or  other  portions  of 
self-abused  man. 

"I  should  tell  you,  furthermore,  that  on  surface  earth 
a  drunkard  is  not  less  abnormal  than  these  creatures ;  but 
men  cannot  see  the  form  of  the  drunkard's  spirit.  Could 
they  perceive  the  ima^e  of  the  drunkard's  real  man  life, 
that  which  corresponds  to  these  material  parts,  it  would 
appear  not  less  distorted  and  hideous.  The  soul  of  a 
mortal  protrudes  from  the  visible  body  as  down  expands 
from  a  thistle  seed,  but  it  is  invisible.  Drink,  I  say, 
drives  the  spirit  of  an  earth-surface  drunkard  to  un- 
natural forms,  not  less  grotesque  than  these  physical  dis- 
tortions. Could  you  see  the  real  drunkard  on  surface 
earth  he  would  be  largely  outside  the  body  shell,  and 


The  Drunkard's  Den  179 

hideous  in  the  extreme.  As  a  rule,  the  spirit  of  an  earth- 
surface  drunkard  dominates  only  the  nose  and  face.  But 
if  mortal  man  could  be  suddenly  gifted  with  the  sense  of 
mind-sight,  he  would  find  himself  surrounded  by  persons 
as  misshapen  as  any  delirious  imagination  can  conjure. 
Luckily  for  humanity  this  scene  is  as  yet  withheld  from 
man,  otherwise  life  would  be  a  fearful  experience,  be- 
cause man  has  not  the  power  to  resist  the  abuse  of  drink." 

"Tell  me,"  I  said,  "how  long  will  these  misshapen 
beings  rest  in  these  caverns?" 

"They  have  been  here  for  ages,"  replied  the  guide ; 
"they  are  doomed  to  remain  for  ages  yet." 

''You  have  intimated  that  if  my  courage  fails  I  shall  re- 
turn to  this  cavern  and  become  as  they  are.  Now  that 
you  have  warned  me  of  my  doom,  do  you  imagine  that 
anything,  even  sudden  death,  can  swerve  me  from  my 
journey?  Death  is  surely  preferable  to  such  an  existence 
as  this." 

"Do  not  be  so  confident.  Every  individual  before  you 
has  had  the  same  opportunity,  and  has  been  warned  as 
you  have  been.  They  could  not  undergo  the  test  to  which 
they  were  subjected,  and  you  may  fail.  Besides,  on  sur- 
face earth  are  not  men  constantly  confronted  with  the 
doom  of  the  drunkard,  and  do  they  not,  in  the  face  of  this 
reality,  turn  back  and  seek  his  caverns?  The  journey  of 
life  is  not  so  fearful  that  they  should  become  drunkards 
to  shrink  from  its  responsibilities.  You  have  reached  this 
point  in  safety.  You  have  passed  the  sentinels  without, 
and  will  soon  be  accosted  by  the  band  before  us.  Listen 
well  now  to  my  advice.  A  drunkard  always  seeks  to  gain 
companions,  to  draw  others  down  to  his  own  level,  and 
you  will  be  tried  as  never  have  you  been  before.  Taste 
not  their  liquor  by  whatever  form  or  creature  presented. 
They  have  no  power  to  harm  him  who  has  courage  to  re- 
sist. If  they  entreat  you,  refuse ;  if  they  threaten,  refuse ; 
if  they  offer  inducements,  refuse  to  drink.  Let  your 
answer  be  No,  and  have  no  fear.  If  your  strength  fail 
you,  mark  well  my" — 


i8o  Etidorhpa 

Before  he  could  complete  his  .sentence  I  felt  a  pres- 
sure, as  of  a  great  wind,  and  suddenly  found  myself 
seized  in  an  irresistible  embrace,  and  then,  helpless  as  a 
feather,  was  swept  out  into  the  cavern  of  the  drunkards. 


CHAPTER  XXXIL 


AMONG    THE    DRUNKARDS. 


I  REMEMBER  once  to  havc  stood  on  the  edge  of  Niag- 
ara's great  whirlpool,  but  not  more  fearful  did  its  seeth- 
ing waters  then  seem  than  did  the  semi-human  whirl  into 
which  I  had  now  been  plunged.  Whether  my  guide  had 
been  aware  of  the  coming  move  that  separated  us  I  never 
knew,  but,  as  his  words  were  interrupted,  I  infer  that  he 
was  not  altogether  ready  to  part  from  my  company.  Be 
this  as  it  may,  he  disappeared  from  sight,  and,  as  by  a 
concerted  move,  the  cries  of  the  drunkards  subsided  in- 
stantly. I  found  myself  borne  high  in  the  air,  perched  on 
a  huge  hand  that  was  carried  by  its  semi-human 
comrades.  It  seemed  as  though  the  contents  of  that  vast 
hall  had  been  suddenly  thrown  beneath  me,  for,  as  I 
looked  about,  I  saw  all  around  a  sea  of  human  fragments, 
living,  moving  parts  of  men.  Round  and  round  that  hall 
we  circled  as  an  eddy  whirls  in  a  rock-bound  basin,  and 
not  less  silently  than  does  the  water  of  an  eddy.  Then  I 
perceived  that  the  disjointed  mass  of  humanity  moved  as 
a  spiral,  in  unison,  throbbing  like  a  vitalized  stream,  bear- 
ing me  submissively  on  its  surface.  Gradually  the  dis- 
tance between  myself  and  the  centre  stone  lessened,  and 
then  I  found  that,  as  if  carried  in  the  groove  of  a  gigantic 
living  spiral,  I  was  being  swept  toward  the  stone  platform 
in  the  centre  of  the  room.  There  was  method  in  the 
movements  of  the  drunkards,  although  I  could  not 
analyze  the  intricacies  of  their  complex  reel. 

Finally  I  was  borne  to  the  centre  stone,  and  by  a  sud- 
den toss  of  the  hand,  in  the  palm  of  which  I  was  seated,  I 
was  thrown  upon  the  raised  platform.  Then  in  unison  the 
troop  swung  around  the  stone,  and  I  found  myself  gazing 
on  a  mass  of  vitalized  fragments  of  humanity.     Quickly 


1 82  Etidorhpa 

a  figure  sprung  upon  the  platform,  and  in  him  I  discerned 
a  seemingly  perfect  man.  He  came  to  my  side  and 
grasped  my  hand  as  if  he  were  a  friend. 

"Do  not  fear,"  he  said ;  "concede  to  our  request,  and 
you  will  not  be  harmed." 

"What  do  you  desire?"  I  asked. 

He  pointed  to  the  centre  of  the  stone,  and  I  saw  thereon 
many  gigantic,  inverted  fungus  bowls.  The  gills  of  some 
had  been  crushed  to  a  pulp,  and  had  saturated  themselves 
with  liquid  which,  perhaps  by  a  species  of  fermentation, 
had  undergone  a  structural  change;  others  were  as  yet 
intact ;  about  others  still  were  men  intently  cutting  the 
gills  into  fragments  and  breaking  the  fruit  preparatory  to 
further  manipulation. 

"You  are  to  drink  with  us,"  he  replied. 

"No,"  I  said ;  "I  will  not  drink." 

"Then  you  must  die ;  to  refuse  to  drink  with  us  is  to  in- 
vite death." 

"So  mote  it  be;  I  will  not  drink." 

We  stood  facing  each  other,  apparently  both  meditat- 
ing on  the  situation. 

I  remember  to  have  been  surprised,  not  that  the  man 
before  me  had  been  able  to  spring  from  the  floor  to  the 
table  rock  on  which  I  stood,  but  that  so  fair  a  personage 
could  have  been  a  companion  of  the  monstrosities  about 
me.  He  was  a  perfect  type  of  manhood,  and  was  ex- 
quisitely clothed  in  a  loose,  flowing  robe  that  revealed 
and  heightened  the  beauty  of  his  symmetrical  form.  His 
face  was  fair,  yet  softly  tinted  with  rich,  fresh  color ;  his 
hair  and  beard  were  neatly  trimmed ;  his  manner  was 
polished,  and  his  countenance  frank  and  attractive.  The 
contrast  between  the  preternatural  shapes  from  among 
whom  he  sprung  and  himself  was  as  between  a  demon 
and  an  angel.  I  marvelled  that  I  had  not  perceived  him 
before,  for  such  a  one  should  have  been  conspicuous  be- 
cause so  fair ;  but  I  reflected  that  it  was  quite  natural  that 
among  the  thousands  of  grotesque  persons  about  me,  one 
attractive  form  should  have  escaped  notice.     Presently  he 


Among  the  Drunkards  183 

spoke  again,  seemingly  having  repented  of  his  display  of 
temper. 

"I  am  a  friend,"  he  said ;  "a.  deliverer.  I  will  serve  you 
as  I  have  others  before  you.  Lean  on  me,  listen  to  my 
story,  accept  my  proffered  friendship." 

Then  he  continued :  "When  you  have  rested,  I  will 
guide  you  in  safety  back  to  upper  earth,  and  restore  you 
to  your  friends." 

I  could  not  resist  his  pleasing  promise.  I  suddenly  and 
unaccountably  believed  in  his  sincerity.  He  impressed 
me  with  confidence  in  his  truthfulness,  yes,  against  my 
better  judgment,  convinced  me  that  he  must  be  a  friend,  a 
savior.  Grasping  him  by  the  hand,  I  thanked  him  for  his 
interest  in  a  disconsolate  wanderer,  and  assured  him  of 
my  confidence. 

"I  am  in  your  hands,"  I  said;  "I  will  obey  you  im- 
plicitly. I  thank  you,  my  deliverer ;  lead  me  back  to  sur- 
face earth  and  receive  the  gratitude  of  a  despairing 
mortal." 

"This  I  will  surely  do,"  he  said ;  "rest  your  case  in  my 
hands,  do  not  concern  yourself  in  the  least  about  your 
future.  Before  acquiescing  in  your  desire,  however,  I 
will  explain  part  of  the  experiences  through  which  you 
have  recently  passed.  You  have  been  in  the  control  of  an 
evil  spirit,  and  have  been  deceived.  The  grotesque  figures, 
the  abnormal  beings  about  you,  exist  only  in  your  dis- 
ordered imagination.  They  are  not  real.  These  persons 
are  happy  and  free  from  care  or  pain.  They  live  in  bliss 
inexpressible.  They  have  a  life  within  a  life,  and  the  out- 
ward expression  that  you  have  perceived  is  as  the  uncouth 
hide  and  figure  that  incloses  the  calm,  peaceful  eye  of  a 
toad.  Look  at  their  eyes,  not  at  their  seemingly  distorted 
forms." 

I  turned  to  the  throng  and  beheld  a  multitude  of  up- 
turned faces  mildly  beaming  upon  me.  As  I  glanced 
from  eye  to  eye  of  each  countenance,  the  repulsive  figure 
disappeared  from  my  view,  and  a  sweet  expression  of 
innocence  was  all  that  was  disclosed  to  me.  I  realized  that 


;84  Etidorhpa 

I  had  judged  by  the  outer  garment.  I  had  wronged  these 
fellow-beings.  A  sense  of  remorse  came  over  me,  a  desire 
to  atone  for  my  short-sightedness. 

"What  can  I  offer  as  a  retribution?"  I  asked.  "I  have 
wrongly  judged  these  people." 

"Listen,"  was  the  reply.  "These  serene  intelligences 
are  happy.  They  are  as  a  band  of  brothers.  They  seek 
to  do  you  a  kindness,  to  save  you  from  disaster.  One 
hour  of  experience  such  as  they  enjoy  is  worth  a  hundred 
years  of  such  pleasures  as  you  have  known.  This  de- 
iicious  favor,  an  hour  of  bliss,  they  freely  offer  you,  and 
after  you  have  partaken  of  a  touch  of  their  exquisite  joy, 
I  will  conduct  you  back  to  earth's  surface  whenever  you 
desire  to  leave  us."    He  emphasized  the  word,  desire. 

"I  am  ready,"  I  replied ;  "give  me  this  promised  de- 
light." 

The  genial  allurer  turned  to  the  table  rock  behind  us, 
and  continued  : 

"In  these  fungus  bowls  we  foment  the  extract  of  life. 
The  precious  cordial  is  as  a  union  of  the  spirits  that  un- 
derlie joy,  peace,  tranquillity,  happiness,  and  delight. 
Could  man  abstract  from  ecstasy  the  thing  that  under- 
lies the  sense  which  gives  that  word  a  meaning,  his  product 
would  not  approach  the  power  of  the  potent  liquids  in 
these  vessels." 

"Of  what  are  they  composed?"  I  asked. 

"Of  derivatives  of  the  rarest  species  of  the  fungus 
family,"  he  answered.  "They  are  made  by  formulae  that 
are  the  result  of  thousands  of  years  of  experimentation. 
Come,  let  us  not  delay  longer  the  hour  of  bliss." 

Taking  me  by  the  hand,  my  graceful  comrade  led  me 
to  the  nearest  bowl.  Then  on  closer  view  I  perceived  that 
its  contents  were  of  a  deep  green  color,  and  in  active  com- 
motion, and  although  no  vapor  was  apparent,  a  delightful 
sensation  impressed  my  faculties.  I  am  not  sure  that  I 
inhaled  at  all — the  feeling  was  one  of  penetration,  of  sub- 
tile, magic  absorption.     My  companion  took  a  tiny  shell 


Among  the  Drunkards  1 8  5, 

which  he  dipped  into  the  strange  cauldron.  Holding  the 
cup  before  me,  he  spoke  the  one  word,  "Drink." 

Ready  to  acquiesce,  forgetful  of  the  warning  I  had  re- 
ceived, I  grasped  the  cup,  and  raised  it  to  my  lips,  and  as 
I  did  so  chanced  to  glance  at  my  tempter's  face,  and  saw 
not  the  supposed  friend  I  had  formerly  observed,  but,  as 
through  a  mask  fair  in  outline,  the  countenance  of  an 
exulting  demon,  regarding  me  with  a  sardonic  grin.  In 
an  instant  he  had  changed  from  man  to  devil. 

I  dashed  the  cup  upon  the  rock.  "No;  I  will  not 
drink,''  I  shouted. 

Instantly  the  cavern  rung  with  cries  of  rage.  A  thou- 
sand voices  joined  as  by  accord,  and  simultaneously  the 
throng  of  fragments  of  men  began  again  to  reyolve.  The 
mysterious  spiral  seemed  to  unwind,  like  unto  that  of 
an  uncoiling  serpent  bisected  lengthwise,  the  two  halves 
of  the  body  seeming  to  slide  against  each  other. 
Gradually  that  part  of  the  cavern  near  the  stone  on  which 
I  stood  became  clear  of  its  occupants,  and  at  last  I  per- 
ceived that  the  throng  had  receded  to  the  outer  edge. 
Then  the  encircling  side  walls  of  the  amphitheatre  became 
visible,  and  as  water  sinks  into  sand,  the  medley  of  frag- 
ments of  humanity  disappeared  from  view. 

I  turned  to  my  companion ;  he,  too,  had  vanished.  I 
glanced  towards  the  liquor  cauldrons ;  the  stone  was  bare. 
I  alone  occupied  the  gigantic  hall.  No  trace  remained  tO' 
tell  of  the  throng  that  a  short  time  previously  had  sur- 
rounded and  mocked  me. 

Desolate,  distracted,  I  threw  myself  upon  the  stone,, 
and  cursed  my  miserable  self.  "Come  back,"  I  cried,, 
"come  back.    1  will  drink,  drink,  drink." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

FURTHER  TEMPTATION. ETIDORHPA. 

Then,  as  my  voice  reverberated  from  outer  recesses, 
I  caught  a  sound  as  of  music  in  the  distance.  I  raised  my 
head  and  listened — yes,  surely  there  was  music.  The 
melody  became  clearly  distinct,  and  soon  my  senses  were 
aware  that  both  vocal  and  instrumental  music  were  com- 
bined. The  airs  which  came  floating  were  sweet,  simple 
and  beautiful.  The  voices  and  accompanying  strains  ap- 
proached, but  I  could  distinguish  no  words.  By  and  by, 
from  the  corridors  of  the  cavern,  troops  of  bright  female 
forms  floated  into  view.  They  were  clad  in  robes  rang- 
ing from  pure  white  to  every  richest  hue,  contrasting 
strangely,  and  in  the  distance  their  rainbow  brilliancy 
made  a  gorgeous  spectacle.  Some  were  fantastically  at- 
tired in  short  gowns,  such  as  I  imagine  were  worn  by  the 
dancing  girls  in  sacred  history,  others  had  kirtles  of  a 
single  bright  color,  others  of  many  shades  intermingled, 
while  others  still  were  dressed  in  gauze-like  fabrics  of 
pure  white. 

As  they  filed  into  the  cavern,  and  approached  me,  they 
formed  into  platoons,  or  into  companies,  and  then,  as  dis- 
solving views  come  and  go,  they  presented  first  one  and 
then  another  figure.  Sometimes  they  would  stretch  in 
great  circling  lines  around  the  hall,  again  they  would 
form  into  squares,  and  again  into  geometrical  figures  of 
all  shades  and  forms,  but  I  observed  that  with  every 
change  they  drew  nearer  to  the  stone  on  which  I  rested. 

They  were  now  so  near  that  their  features  could  be 
distinguished,  never  before  had  I  seen  such  loveliness  in 
human  mould.  Every  face  was  as  perfect  as  a  master's 
picture  of  the  Madonna,  and  yet  no  two  seemed  to  possess 
the  same  type  of  beauty.    Some  were  of  dark  complexion 


Further  Temptation  187 

with  glossy,  raven  hair,  others  were  fair  with  hair  rang- 
ing from  Hght  brown  to  golden.  The  style  of  head  dress, 
as  a  rule,  was  of  the  simplest  description.  A  tinted  rib- 
bon, or  twisted  cord,  over  the  head,  bound  their  hair  with 
becoming  grace,  and  their  silken  locks  were  either  plaited 
into  braids,  curled  into  ringlets,  or  hung  loosely,  flowing 
in  wavelets  about  their  shoulders.  Some  held  curious 
musical  instruments,  others  beautiful  wands,  and  al- 
together they  produced  a  scenic  effect  of  rare  beauty  that 
the  most  extravagant  dream  of  fairyland  could  not  sur- 
pass. Thus  it  was  that  I  became  again  the  centre  of  a 
throng,  not  of  repulsive  monsters,  but  of  marvellously 
lovely  beings.  They  were  as  different  from  those  preced- 
ing as  darkness  is  from  daylight. 

Could  any  man  from  the  data  of  my  past  experiences 
have  predicted  such  a  scene?  Never  before  had  the 
semblance  of  a  woman  appeared,  never  before  had  there 
been  an  intimation  that  the  gentle  sex  existed  in  these 
silent  chambers.  Now,  from  the  grotesque  figures  and 
horrible  cries  of  the  former  occupants  of  this  same  cavern, 
the  scene  had  changed  to  a  conception  of  the  beautiful  and 
artistic,  such  as  a  poetic  spirit  might  evolve  in  an  extrav- 
agant dream  of  higher  fairyland.  I  glanced  above ;  the 
great  hall  was  clothed  in  brilliant  colors,  the  bare  rocks 
had  disappeared,  the  dome  of  that  vast  arch,  reaching  to 
an  immeasurable  height,  was  decorated  in  all  the  colors 
of  the  rainbow.  Flags  and  streamers  fluttered  in  breezes 
that  also  moved  the  garments  of  the  angelic  throng  about 
me,  but  which  I  could  not  sense ;  profiles  of  enchanting 
faces  pervaded  the  glimmering  space  beyond ;  I  alone  was 
but  an  onlooker,  not  a  participant  of  the  joys  about  me. 

The  movements  of  the  seraph-like  figures  continued, 
innumerable  forms  and  figures  followed  figures  and 
forms  innumerable,  while  music  indescribable  blended 
with  the  poetry  of  motion.  I  was  rapt,  the  past  disap- 
peared, my  former  mind  was  blotted  from  existence,  the 
world  vanished,  and  I  became  a  thrill  of  joy,  a  sensation 
of  absolute  delight. 


1 88  Etidorhpa 

The  band  of  spirits  or  fairy  forms  reached  the  rock  at 
my  feet,  but  I  did  not  know  how  long  a  time  they  con- 
sumed in  doing  this ;  it  may  have  been  a  second,  and  it 
may  have  been  an  eternity.  Neither  did  I  care.  A  single 
moment  of  existence  such  as  I  experienced  seemed  worth 
an  age  of  any  other  pleasure. 

Circling  about  me,  these  ethereal  creatures  paused  from 
their  motions,  and,  as  the  music  ceased,  I  stood  above 
them,  and  yet  in  their  midst,  and  gazing  out  into  illimi- 
table distance  which  was  not  less  beautiful  in  the  expanse 
than  was  the  adjacent  part.  The  cavern  had  altogether 
disappeared,  and  in  the  depths  about  me  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  seemingly  into  the  broad  expanse  of  heaven, 
I  saw  the  exquisite  forms  that  I  have  attempted  to  de- 
scribe. 

Then  a  single  band  from  the  throng  lightly  sprung 
upon  the  stony  terrace  where  I  stood,  and  sung  and 
danced  before  me.  Every  motion  was  perfect  as 
imagination  could  depict,  every  sound  was  a  concentrated 
extract  of  melody.  This  band  retired  to  be  replaced  by 
another,  which  in  turn  gave  way  to  another,  and  still  an- 
other, until,  as  in  space  we  have  no  standard  of  com- 
parison, time  vanished,  and  numbers  ceased  to  be 
numbers. 

No  two  of  the  band  of  dancers  were  clothed  alike,  no 
two  songs  were  similar,  though  all  were  inexpressibly  en- 
chanting. The  first  group  seemed  perfect,  and  yet  the 
second  was  more  entrancing,  while  each  succeeding  band 
sung  sweeter  songs,  were  more  beautiful,  and  richer  in 
dress  than  those  preceding.  I  became  enveloped  in  the 
aesthetic  atmosphere,  my  spirit  seemed  to  be  loosened 
from  the  body,  it  was  apparently  upon  the  point  of  escap- 
ing from  its  mortal  frame ;  suddenly  in  the  very  acme  of 
my  delight  the  music  ceased,  the  figures  about  became 
passive,  and  every  form,  standing  upright  and  graceful, 
gazed  upon  my  face,  and  as  1  looked  at  the  radiant 
creatures,  each  successive  face,  in  turn,  seemed  to  grow 


Further  Temptation  189 

more  beautiful,  each  form  more  exquisite  than  those 
about. 

Then,  in  the  distance,  I  observed  the  phalanx  divide, 
forming  into  two  divisions,  separated  by  a  broad  aisle, 
stretching  from  my  feet  to  the  limit  of  space  without,  and 
down  this  aisle  I  observed  a  single  figure  advancing 
toward  me. 

As  she  approached,  the  phalanx  closed  in  behind  her, 
and  when  at  last  she  reached  the  stone  on  which  I  stood, 
she  stepped,  or  was  wafted  to  my  side,  and  the  phalanx 
behind  moved  together  and  was  complete  again.  ^ 

"My  name  is  Etidorhpa.  In  me  you  behold  the  spirit 
that  elevates  man  and  subdues  the  most  violent  of 
passions.  In  history,  so  far  back  in  the  dim  ages  as  to 
be  known  now  as  legendary  mythology,  have  I  ruled  and 
blessed  the  world.  Unclasp  my  power  over  man  and 
beast,  and  while  Heaven  dissolves,  the  charms  of  Para- 
dise will  perish.  I  know  no  master.  The  universe  bows 
to  my  authority.  Stars  and  suns  enamored  pulsate  and 
throb  in  space  and  kiss  each  other  in  waves  of  light ; 
atoms  cold  embrace  and  cling  together ;  structures  in- 
animate affiliate  with  and  attract  inanimate  structures ; 
bodies  dead  to  other  noble  passions  are  not  dead  to  love. 
The  savage  beast,  under  my  enchantment,  creeps  to  her 
lair,  and  gently  purrs  over  her  ofifspring ;  even  man  be- 
comes less  violent,  and  sheathes  his  weapon  and  smothers 
his  hatred  as  I  soothe  his  passions  beside  the  loved  ones 
in  the  privacy  of  his  home. 

"I  have  been  known  under  many  titles,  and  have  com- 
forted many  peoples.  Strike  my  name  from  Time's  rec- 
ord, and  the  lovely  daughters  of  Zeus  and  Dione  would 
disappear ;  and  with  them  would  vanish  the  grace  and 
beauty  of  woman ;  the  sweet  conception  of  the  Froth 
Child  of  the  Cyprus  Sea  would  be  lost ;  Venus,  the  God- 
dess of  Love,  would  have  no  place  in  song,  and  Love  her- 
self, the  holiest  conception  of  the  poet,  man's  superlative 
conception  of  Heaven's  most  precious  charms,  would  be 


190  Etidorhpa 

buried  with  the  myrtle  and  the  rose.  My  name  is 
Etidorhpa ;  interpret  it  rightly,  and  you  have  what  has 
been  to  humanity  the  essence  of  love,  the  mother  of  all  , 
that  ennobles.  He  who  loves  a  wife  worships  me ;  she 
who  in  turn  makes  a  home  happy  is  typical  of  me.  I  am 
Etidorhpa,  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  earth.  Behold 
in  me  the  antithesis  of  envy,  the  opposite  of  malice,  the 
enemy  of  sorrow,  the  mistress  of  life,  the  queen  of  im- 
mortal bliss. 

"Do  you  know,"  she  continued,  and  her  voice,  soft  and 
sweet,  carried  with  it  a  pleasurable  sense  of  truthfulness 
indescribable,  "do  you  know  that  man's  idea  of  Heaven 
places  me,  Etidorhpa,  on  the  highest  throne?  With  the 
charm  of  maiden  pure,  I  combine  the  devotion  of  wife  and 
the  holiness  of  mother.  Take  from  the  life  of  man  the 
treasures  I  embody,  and  he  will  be  homeless,  childless, 
loveless.  The  thought  of  Heaven  must  in  such  a  case  be 
as  the  dismal  conception  of  a  dreary  platitude.  A  life  in 
such  a  Heaven,  a  Heaven  devoid  of  love  (and  this  the 
Scriptures  teach),  is  one  of  endless  torment. 

"Love,  by  whatever  name  the  conception  is  designated, 
rules  the  world.  Divest  the  cold  man  of  science  of  the 
bond  that  binds  him  to  his  life-thought,  and  his  work  is 
ended.  Strike  from  the  master  in  music  the  chord  that 
links  his  soul  to  the  voice  he  breathes,  and  his  songs  will 
be  hushed.  Deaden  the  sense  of  love  which  the  artist 
bears  his  art,  and  as  the  spirit  that  underlies  his  thought- 
scenes  vanishes,  his  touch  becomes  chilled,  and  his  brush 
inexpressive.  The  soldier  thinks  of  his  home  and  coun- 
try, and  without  a  murmur  sheds  his  life  blood. 

"And  yet  there  are  debasing  phases  of  love,  for  as  love 
of  country  builds  a  nation,  so  love  of  pillage  may  destroy 
it.  Love  of  the  holy  and  the  beautiful  stands  in  human 
life  opposed  to  love  of  the  debasing  and  vicious,  and  I, 
Etidorhpa,  am  typical  of  the  highest  love  of  man.  As  the 
same  force  binds  together  the  entities  of  the  rose  and 
the  violet  as  well  as  those  of  noxious  drugs,  so  the  same 
soul  conception  may  serve  the  love  of  good  or  the  love 


KTIDOKHI'A. 


Further  Temptation  191 

of  evil.  Love  may  guide  a  tyrant  or  actuate  a  saint,  may 
make  man  torture  his  fellow  or  strive  to  ease  his  pain. 

"Thus  man's  propensity  to  serve  his  holy  or  his  evil 
passion  may  each  be  called  a  degree  in  love,  and  in  the 
serving  of  that  passion  the  love  of  one  heart  may  express 
itself  as  the  antithesis  of  love  in  another.  As  bitter  is  to 
some  men's  taste  more  pleasant  than  sweet,  and  sour  is 
yet  more  grateful  to  others,  so  one  man  may  love  the 
beautiful,  another  delight  in  the  grotesque,  and  a  third 
may  love  to  see  his  neighbor  suffer.  Amid  these,  the 
phase  of  love  that  ennobles  brings  the  greatest  degree  of 
pleasure  and  comfort  to  mankind,  but  yet  the  love  that 
degrades  is  love  nevertheless,  by  whatever  name  the  ex- 
pression of  the  passion  may  be  called.  Love  rules  the 
world,  and  typical  of  man's  intensest,  holiest  love,  I, 
Etidorhpa,  stand  the  Soul  of  Love  Supreme."  She  hesi- 
tated. 

"Go  on." 

"I  have  already  said,  and  in  saying  this  have  told  the 
truth,  I  come  from  beyond  the  empty  shell  of  a  material- 
istic gold  and  silver  conception  of  Heaven.  Go  with  me, 
and  in  my  home  you  will  find  man's  soul  devotion,  regard- 
less of  material  surroundings.  I  have  said,  and  truly,  the 
corridors  of  the  Heaven  mansion,  enriched  by  precious 
stones  and  metals  fine,  but  destitute  of  my  smiles  and 
graces,  are  deserted.  The  golden  calf  is  no  longer  wor- 
shipped, cobwebs  cling  in  motionless  festoons,  and  the 
dust  of  selfish,  perverted  thoughts,  dry  and  black  as  the 
soot  from  Satan's  iires  settling  therein,  like  unto  the  dust 
of  an  antiquated  sarcophagus,  rest  undisturbed.  Place  on 
one  side  the  Heaven  of  which  gold-bound  misers  sing, 
and  on  the  other  Etidorhpa  and  the  treasures  which  come 
with  me  to  man  and  woman  ( for  without  me  neither  wife, 
child,  nor  father  could  exist),  and  from  any  other  heaven 
mankind  will  turn  away.  The  noblest  gift  of  Heaven  to 
humanity  is  the  highest  sense  of  love,  and  I,,  Etidorhpa,. 
am  the  soul  of  love." 


1 9  2  Etidorhpa 

She  ceased  speaking,  and  as  I  looked  at  the  form  be- 
-side  me  I  forgot  myself  in  the  rapture  of  that  gaze. 

Crush  the  colors  of  the  rainbow  into  a  single  hue 
possessed  of  the  attributes  of  all  the  others,  and  you  have 
less  richness  than  rested  in  any  of  the  complex  colors 
shown  in  the  trimming  of  her  raiment.  Lighten  the  soft- 
ness of  eiderdown  a  thousand  times,  and  yet  maintain  its 
sense  of  substance,  and  you  have  not  conceived  of  the 
softness  of  the  gauze  that  decked  her  simple,  flowing  gar- 
ments. Gather  the  shadows  cast  by  a  troop  of  angels, 
then  sprinkle  the  resultant  shade  with  star  dust,  and  color 
therewith  a  garment  brighter  than  satin,  softer  than  silk, 
and  more  ethereal  than  light  itself,  and  you  have  less 
beauty  than  reposed  in  the  modest  dress  that  enveloped 
her  figure.  Abstract  the  perfume  from  the  sweetest 
oriental  grasses,  and  combine  with  it  the  spirit  of  the  wild 
rose,  then  add  thereto  the  soul  of  ambergris  and  the  ex- 
tracts of  the  finest  aromatics  of  the  East,  and  you  have 
not  approached  the  exquisite  fragrance  that  penetrated 
my  very  being  at  her  approach.  She  stood  before  me, 
slender,  lithe,  symmetrical,  radiant.  Her  hair  was  more 
beautiful  than  pen  can  depict ;  it  was  colorless  because  it 
cannot  be  described  by  colors  known  to  mortals.  Her 
face  paled  the  beauty  of  all  who  had  preceded  her.  She 
could  not  be  a  fairy,  for  no  conception  of  a  fairy  can  ap- 
proach such  loveliness ;  she  was  not  a  spirit,  for  surely 
material  substance  was  a  part  of  her  form ;  she  was  not 
:an  angel,  for  no  abnormal,  irrational  wing  protruded 
from  her  shoulder  to  blemish  her  seraphic  figure. 

"No,"  I  said  musingly ;  "she  is  a  creature  of  other 
climes;  the  Scriptures  tell  us  of  no  such  being;  she  is 
neither  human  nor  angelic,  but" — 

"Rut  what?"  she  asked. 

"I  do  not  know,"  I  answered. 

"Then  I  will  tell  you,"  she  replied.  "Yes ;  I  will  tell 
you  of  myself  and  of  my  companions.  I  will  show  you 
■our  home,  carrving  vou  through  the  shadows  of  Heaven 


Further  Temptation  193 

to  exhibit  that  fair  land,  for  Heaven  moulders  without 
Etidorhpa  and  casts  a  shadow.  See,"  she  said,  as  with 
her  dainty  fingers  she  removed  from  her  garment  a  frag- 
ment of  transparent  film  that  I  had  not  previously  ob- 
served ;  "see,  this  is  a  cobweb  that  clung  to  my  skirt,  as, 
on  my  way  to  meet  you,  I  passed  through  the  dismal  cor- 
ridors of  the  materialists'  loveless  heaven." 

She  dropped  it  on  the  floor,  and  I  stooped  to  pick  it  up, 
but  vainly — my  fingers  passed  through  it  as  through  a 
mist. 

"You  must  be  an  angel,"  I  stammered. 

She  smiled. 

"Come,"  she  said,  "do  not  consume  your  time  with 
thoughts  of  materialistic  heaven ;  come  with  me  to  that 
brighter  land  beyond,  and  in  those  indescribable  scenes 
we,  you  and  I,  will  wander  together  forever." 

She  held  out  her  hand ;  I  hesitatingly  touched  it,  and 
then  raised  it  to  my  lips.     She  made  no  resistance. 

I  dropped  upon  my  knees.  "Are  you  to  be  mine?"  I 
cried.    "Mine  forever?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered ;  "if  you  will  it,  for  he  who  loves 
will  be  loved  in  turn." 

"I  will  go,"  I  said ;  "I  give  myself  to  you,  be  you  what 
you  may,  be  your  home  where  it  may,  I  give  up  the  earth 
behind  me,  and  the  hope  of  Heaven  before  me ;  the  here 
and  the  hereafter  I  will  sacrifice.  Let  us  hasten,"  I  said, 
for  she  made  no  movement. 

She  shook  her  head.  "You  must^yet  be  tempted  as  never 
before,  and  you  must  resist  the  tempter.  You  cannot  pass 
into  the  land  of  Etidorhpa  until  you  have  suffered  as  only 
the  damned  can  suffer,  until  you  have  withstood  the 
pangs  of  thirst,  and  have  experienced  indescribable  heat 
and  cold.  Remember  the  warning  of  your  former  guide, 
mark  well  the  words  of  Etidorhpa :  you  must  not  yield. 
'Twas  to  serve  you  that  I  came  before  you  now,  'twas  to 
preserve  you  from  the  Drunkard's  Cavern  that  I  have 
given  you  this  vision  of  the  land  beyond  the  End  of  Earth, 
where,  if  you  will  serve  yourself,  we  shall  meet  again." 


1 94  Etidorhpa 

She  held  aloft  two  tiny  cups ;  I  sprung  to  my  feet  and 
grasped  one  of  them,  and  as  I  glanced  at  the  throng  in 
front  of  me,  every  radiant  figure  held  aloft  in  the  left 
hand  a  similar  cup.  All  were  gazing  in  my  face.  I  looked 
at  the  transparent  cup  in  my  hand ;  it  appeared  to  be 
partly  filled  with  a  green  liquid.  I  looked  at  her  cup  and 
saw  that  it  contained  a  similar  fluid. 

Forgetting  the  warning  she  had  so  recently  given,  I 
raised  the  cup  to  my  lips,  and  just  before  touching  it 
glanced  again  at  her  face.  The  fair  creature  stood  with 
bowed  head,  her  face  covered  with  her  hand ;  her  very 
form  and  attitude  spoke  of  sorrow  and  disappointment, 
and  she  trembled  in  distress.  She  held  one  hand  as 
though  to  thrust  back  a  form  that  seemed  about  to  force 
itself  beyond  her  figure,  for  peering  exultingly  from  be- 
hind, leered  the  same  Satanic  face  that  met  my  gaze  on 
the  preceding  occasion,  when  in  the  presence  of  the  troop 
of  demons  I  had  been  tempted  by  the  perfect  man. 

Dashing  the  cup  to  the  floor  I  shouted : 

"No ;  I  will  not  drink." 

Etidorhpa  dropped  upon  her  knees  and  clasped  her 
hands.  The  Satanic  figure  disappeared  from  sight. 
Realizing  that  we  had  triumphed  over  the  tempter,  I  also 
fell  upon  my  knees  in  thankfulness. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

MISERY. 

As  all  the  bubbles  in  a  glass  shrink  and  vanish  when 
the  first  collapses,  so  the  troop  of  fairy-like  forms  before 
me  disintegrated  and  were  gone.  The  delicate  being, 
whose  hand  I  held,  fluttered  as  does  a  mist  in  the  first 
gust  of  a  sudden  gale,  and  then  dissolved  into  trans- 
parency. The  gayly  decked  amphitheatre  disappeared, 
the  very  earth  cavern  passed  from  existence,  and  I  found 
myself  standing  solitary  and  alone  in  a  boundless  desert. 
I  turned  toward  every  point  of  the  compass  only  to  find 
that  no  visible  object  appeared  to  break  the  monotony.  I 
stood  upon  a  floor  of  pure  white  sand  which  stretched  to 
the  horizon  in  gentle,  wave-like  undulations  as  if  the  swell 
of  the  ocean  had  been  caught,  transformed  to  sand,  and 
fixed. 

I  bent  down  and  scooped  a  handful  of  the  sand,  and 
raised  it  in  the  palm  of  my  hand,  letting  it  sift  back  again 
to  earth;  it  was  surely  sand.  I  pinched  my  flesh  and 
pulled  my  hair,  I  tore  my  garments,  stamped  upon  the 
sand,  and  shouted  aloud  to  demonstrate  that  I  myself  was 
still  myself.  It  was  real,  yes,  real.  I  stood  alone  in  a 
desert  of  sand.  Morning  was  dawfiing,  and  on  one  side 
the  great  sun  rose  slowly  and  majestically. 

"Thank  God  for  the  sun,"  I  cried.  "Thank  God  for  the 
light  and  heat  of  the  sun." 

I  was  again  on  surface  earth ;  once  more  I  beheld  that 
glorious  orb  for  the  sight  of  which  I  had  so  often  prayed 
when  I  believed  myself  miserable  in  the  dismal  earth 
caverns,  and  which  I  had  been  willing  to  give  my  very  life 
once  more  to  behold.  I  fell  on  my  knees,  and  raised  my 
hands  in  thankfulness.  I  blessed  the  rising  sun,  the  il- 
limitable sand,  the  air  about  me,  and  the  blue  heavens 


196  Etidorhpa 

above.  I  blessed  all  that  was  before  me,  and  again  and 
again  returned  thanks  for  my  delivery  from  the  caverns 
beneath  me.  I  did  not  think  to  question  by  what  power 
this  miracle  had  been  accomplished.  I  did  not  care  to  do 
so ;  had  I  thought  of  the  matter  at  all  I  would  not  have 
dared  to  question  for  fear  the  transition  might  prove  a 
delusion. 

I  turned  toward  the  sun,  and  walked  eastward.  As  the 
day  progressed  and  the  sun  rose  into  the  heavens,  I  main- 
tained my  journey,  aiming  as  best  I  could  to  keep  the 
same  direction.  The  heat  increased,  and  when  the  sun 
I  had  called  blessings  upon  reached  the  zenith  it  seemed 
as  though  it  would  melt  the  marrow  in  my  bones.  The 
sand,  as  white  as  snow  and  hot  as  lava,  dazzled  my  eyes, 
and  I  covered  them  with  my  hands.  The  sun  shafts  from 
the  sky  seared  me  through  as  if  a  ball  of  white  hot  iron 
were  near  my  head.  It  seemed  small,  and  yet  appeared  to 
shine  as  through  a  tube  directed  only  toward  myself. 
Vainly  did  I  struggle  to  escape  and  get  beyond  its 
boundary,  but  the  tube  seemed  to  follow  my  every  motion, 
directing  the  blazing  shafts,  and  concentrating  them  ever 
upon  my  defenceless  person.  I  removed  my  outer  gar- 
ments, and  tore  my  shirt  into  fibres,  hoping  to  catch  a  waft 
of  breeze,  and  with  one  hand  over  my  eyes,  and  the  other 
holding  my  coat  above  my  head,  endeavored  to  escape  the 
mighty  flood  of  heat,  but  vainly.  The  fiery  rays  streamed 
through  the  garment  as  mercury  flows  through  a  film  of 
gauze.  They  penetrated  my  flesh  and  vaporized  my 
blood.  My  hands,  fingers,  and  arms  pufifed  out  as  a 
bladder  of  air  expands  under  the  influence  of  heat.  My 
face  swelled  to  twice,  thrice  its  normal  size,  and  at  last 
my  eyes  were  closed,  for  my  cheeks  and  eyebrows  met. 
I  rubbed  my  shapeless  hand  over  my  sightless  face,  and 
found  it  as  round  as  a  ball ;  the  nose  had  become  im- 
bedded in  the  expanded  flesh  and  my  ears  had  disappeared 
in  the  same  manner. 

I  could  no  longer  see  the  sun,  but  the  vivid,  piercing 
ravs  I  could  not  evade.     I  do  not  know  whether  I  walked 


Misery  197 

or  rolled  along;  I  only  know  that  I  struggled  to  escape 
those  deadly  shafts.  Then  I  prayed  for  death,  and  in  the 
same  breath  begged  the  powers  that  had  transferred  me 
to  surface  earth  to  carry  me  back  again  to  the  caverns  be- 
low. The  recollection  of  their  cool,  refreshing  atmos- 
phere was  as  the  thought  of  Heaven  must  be  to  a  lost 
spirit.  I  experienced  the  agony  of  a  damned  soul,  and 
now,  in  contradistinction  to  former  times,  considered  as 
my  idea  of  perfect  happiness  the  dismal  earth  caverns  of 
other  days.  I  thought  of  the  day  I  had  stood  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Kentucky  cave,  and  waded  into  the  water  with  my 
guide ;  I  recalled  the  refreshing  coolness  of  the  stream  in 
the  darkness  of  that  cavern  when  the  last  ray  of  sunshine 
disappeared,  and  I  cursed  myself  for  longing  then  for 
sunshine  and  the  surface  earth.  Fool  that  man  is,  I 
mentally  cried,  not  to  be  contented  with  that  which  is, 
however  he  may  be  situated  and  wherever  he  may  be 
placed.  This  is  but  a  retribution,  I  am  being  cursed  for 
my  discontented  mind,  this  is  hell,  and  in  comparison  with 
this  hell  all  else  on  or  in  earth  is  happiness.  Then  I 
damned  the  sun,  the  earth,  the  very  God  of  all,  and  in  my 
frenzy  cursed  everything  that  existed.  I  felt  of  my  pufifed 
limbs,  and  prayed  that  I  might  become  lean  again.  I 
asked  to  shrink  to  a  skeleton,  for  seemingly  my  misery 
came  with  my  expanded  form ;  but  I  prayed  and  cursed  in 
vain.  So  I  struggled  on  in  agony,  every  moment  seem- 
ingly covering  a  multitude  of  years ;  struggled  along  like 
a  lost  soul  plodding  in  an  endless  expanse  of  ever-increas- 
ing, ever-concentrating  hell.  At  last,  however,  the  day 
declined,  the  heat  decreased,  and  as  it  did  so  my  distorted 
body  gradually  shrank  to  its  normal  size,  my  eyesight  re- 
turned, and  finally  I  stood  in  that  wilderness  of  sand 
watching  the  great  red  sun  sink  into  the  earth,  as  in  the 
morning  I  had  watched  it  rise.  But  between  the  sunrise 
and  the  sunset  there  had  been  an  eternity  of  suffering, 
and  then,  as  if  released  from  a  spell,  I  dropped  exhausted 
upon  the  sand,  and  seemed  to  sleep.  I  dreamed  of  the 
sun,  and  that  an  angel  stood  before  me,  and  asked  why  I 


198  Etidorhpa 

was  miserable,  and  in  reply  I  pointed  to  the  sun.  "See," 
I  said,  "the  author  of  the  misery  of  man." 

Said  the  angel :  "Were  there  no  sun  there  would  be  no 
men,  but  were  there  no  men  there  would  still  be  misery." 

"Misery  of  what?"  I  asked. 

"Misery  of  mind,"  replied  the  angel.  "Misery  is  a 
thing,  misery  is  not  a  conception — pain  is  real,  pain  is  not 
an  impression.  Misery  and  pain  would  still  exist  and 
prey  upon  mind  substance  were  there  no  men,  for  mind 
also  is  real,  and  not  a  mere  conception.  The  pain  you 
have  suffered  has  not  been  the  pain  of  matter,  but  the  pain 
of  spirit.  Matter  cannot  suffer.  Were  it  matter  that  suf- 
fered, the  heated  sand  would  writhe  in  agony.  No ;  it  is 
only  mind  and  spirit  that  experience  pain  or  pleasure, 
and  neither  mind  nor  spirit  can  evade  its  destiny,  even 
if  it  escape  from  the  body." 

Then  I  awoke  and  saw  once  more  the  great  red  sun 
rise  from  the  sand-edge  of  my  desolate  world,  and  I  be- 
came aware  of  a  new  pain,  for  now  I  perceived  the  fact 
that  I  experienced  the  sense  of  thirst.  The  conception  of 
the  impression  drew  my  mind  to  the  subject,  and  in- 
stantly intense  thirst,  the  most  acute  of  bodily  sufferings, 
possessed  me.  When  vitalized  tissue  craves  water,  other 
physical  wants  are  unfelt ;  when  man  parches  to  death,  all 
other  methods  of  torture  are  disregarded.  I  thought  no 
longer  of  the  rising  sun,  I  remembered  no  more  the  burn- 
ing sand  of  yesterday,  I  felt  only  the  pain  of  thirst. 

"Water,  water,  water."  I  cried,  and  then  in  the  distance, 
as  if  in  answer  to  my  cry,  I  beheld  a  lake  of  water. 

Instantly  every  nerve  was  strained,  every  muscle 
stretched,  and  I  fled  over  the  sands  toward  the  welcome 
pool. 

On  and  on  I  ran,  and  as  I  did  so,  the  sun  rising  higher 
and  higher,  again  began  to  burn  the  sands  beneath  my 
feet  and  roast  the  flesh  upon  my  bones.  Once  more  I 
experienced  that  intolerable  sense  of  pain,  the  pain  of  liv- 
ing flesh  disintegrating  by  fire,  and  now  with  thirst 
gnawing  at  my  vitals  and  fire  drying  up  the  residue  of 


Misery  199 

my  evaporated  blood,  I  struggled  in  agony  toward  a  lake 
that  vanished  before  my  gaze,  to  reappear  just  beyond. 

This  day  was  more  horrible  than  the  preceding,  and  yet 
it  was  the  reverse  so  far  as  the  action  of  the  sun  on  my 
flesh  was  concerned.  My  prayer  of  yesterday  had  been 
fearfully  answered,  and  the  curses  of  the  day  preceding 
were  being  visited  upon  my  very  self.  I  had  prayed  to 
become  lean,  and  instead  of  the  former  pufifed  tissue  and 
expanded  flesh,  my  body  now  contracted  as  does  beef 
when  dried.  The  tightening  skin  squeezed  upon  the 
solidifying  flesh,  and  as  the  moisture  evaporated,  it  left 
a  shrivelled  integument,  contracted  close  upon  the  bone. 
My  joints  stood  out  as  great  protuberances,  my  skin 
turned  to  a  dark  amber  color,  and  my  flesh  became  trans- 
parent as  does  wetted  horn.  I  saw  my  very  vitals  throb, 
I  saw  the  empty  blood  vessels,  the  shrivelled  nerves  and 
vacant  arteries  of  my  frame.  I  could  not  close  my  eyes. 
I  could  not  shield  them  from  the  burning  sun.  I  was  a 
mummy,  yet  living,  a  dried  corpse  walking  over  the  sand, 
dead  to  all  save  pain.  I  tried  to  fall,  but  could  not,  and  I 
felt  that,  while  the  sun  was  visible,  I  must  stand  upright ; 
I  could  not  stop,  and  could  not  stoop.  Then  at  last  the 
malevolent  sun  sank  beneath  the  horizon,  and  as  the  last 
ray  disappeared  I  fell  upon  the  sand. 

I  did  not  sleep,  I  did  not  rest,  I  did  not  breathe  nor  live 
a  human  ;  I  only  existed  as  a  living  pain,  the  conception  of 
pain  realized  into  a  conscious  nucleus — and  so  the  night 
passed.  Again  the  sun  arose,  and  with  the  light  of  her 
first  ray  I  saw  near  at  hand  a  caravan,  camels,  men, 
horses,  a  great  cavalcade.  They  approached  rapidly  and 
surrounded  me.  The  leader  of  the  band  alighted  and 
raised  me  to  my  feet,  for  no  longer  had  I  the  power  of 
motion.  He  spoke  to  me  kindly,  and  strange  as  it  may 
seem  to  you,  but  not  at  all  strange  did  it  seem  to  me, 
called  me  by  name. 

"We  came  across  your  tracks  in  the  desert,"  he  said ; 
"we  are  your  deliverers." 

I  motioned  for  water ;  I  could  not  speak. 


200  Etidorhpa 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "water  you  shall  have." 

Then  from  one  of  the  skins  that  hung  across  the  hump 
of  a  camel  he  filled  a  crystal  goblet  with  sparkling  water, 
and  held  it  toward  me,  but  just  before  the  goblet  touched 
my  lips  he  withdrew  it  and  said : 

"I  forgot  to  first  extend  the  greetings  of  our  people." 

And  then  I  noticed  in  his  other  hand  a  tiny  glass  con- 
taining a  green  liquid,  which  he  placed  to  my  lips,  pro- 
nouncing the  single  word,  "Drink." 

I  fastened  my  gaze  upon  the  water,  and  opened  my  lips. 
I  smelled  the  aroma  of  the  powerful  narcotic  liquid  within 
the  glass,  and  hastened  to  obey,  but  glanced  first  at  my  de- 
liverer, and  in  his  stead  saw  the  familiar  face  of  the 
Satanic  figure  that  twice  before  had  tempted  me.  In- 
stantly, without  a  thought  as  to  the  consequences,  without 
a  fear  as  to  the  result,  I  dashed  the  glass  to  the  sand,  and 
my  voice  returning,  I  cried  for  the  third  time,  "No;  I  will 
not  drink." 

The  troop  of  camels  instantly  disappeared,  as  had  the 
figures  in  the  former  scenes,  the  tempter  resolved  into 
clear  air,  the  sand  beneath  my  feet  became  natural  again, 
and  I  bcame  myself  as  I  had  been  before  passing  through 
the  hideous  ordeal.  The  fact  of  my  deliverance  from 
the  earth  caverns  had,  I  now  realized,  been  followed  by 
temporary  aberration  of  my  mind,  the  torture  had  been  a 
hallucination,  but  at  last  I  saw  clearly  again,  the  painful 
fancy  had  passed,  the  delirium  was  over. 

I  fell  upon  my  knees  in  thankfulness ;  the  misery 
through  which  I  had  passed  had  proven  to  be  illusory,  the 
earth  caverns  were  beneath  me,  the  mirage  and  tempta- 
tions were  not  real,  the  horrors  I  had  experienced  were 
imaginary — thank  God  for  all  this — and  that  the  sand 
was  really  sand.  Solitary,  alone,  I  kneeled  in  the  barren 
desert,  from  horizon  to  horizon  desolation  only  sur- 
rounded, and  yet  the  scene  of  that  illimitable  waste,  a  fear- 
ful reality,  it  is  true,  was  sweet  in  comparison  with  the 
misery  of  body  and  soul  about  which  I  had  dreamed  so 
vividly. 


Misery  201 

"  'Tis  no  wonder,"  I  said  to  myself,  "that  in  the 
moment  of  transition  from  the  underground  caverns  to 
the  sunshine  above,  the  shock  should  have  disturbed  my 
mental  equilibrium,  and  in  the  moment  of  reaction  I 
should  have  dreamed  fantastic  and  horrible  imaginings." 

A  cool  and  refreshing  breeze  sprung  now,  from  I  know 
not  where  ;  I  did  not  care  to  ask  ;  it  was  too  welcome  a  gift 
to  question,  and  contrasted  pleasantly  with  the  misery  of 
my  past  hallucination.  The  sun  was  shining  hot  above  me, 
the  sand  was  glowing,  parched  beneath  me,  and  yet  the 
grateful  breeze  fanned  my  brow  and  refreshed  my  spirit. 

"Thank  God,"  I  cried,  "for  the  breeze,  for  the  coolness 
that  it  brings ;  only  those  who  have  experienced  the 
silence  of  the  cavern  solitudes  through  which  I  have 
passed,  and  added  thereto,  have  sensed  the  horrors  of  the 
more  recent  nightmare  scenes,  can  appreciate  the  delights 
of  a  gust  of  air." 

The  incongruity  of  surrounding  conditions,  as  con- 
nected with  rational  affairs,  did  not  appeal  at  all  to  my 
questioning  senses,  it  seemed  as  though  the  cool  breeze, 
coming  from  out  the  illimitable  desolation  of  a  heated 
waste,  was  natural.  I  arose  and  walked  on,  refreshed. 
From  out  that  breeze  my  physical  self  drew  refreshment 
and  strength. 

"  'Tis  the  cold,"  I  said,  "the  blessed  antithesis  of  heat, 
that  supports  life.  Heat  enervates,  cold  stimulates ;  heat 
depresses,  cold  animates.  Thank  God  for  breezes,  winds, 
waters,  cold." 

I  turned  and  faced  the  gladsome  breeze.  "  'Tis  the 
source  of  life,  I  will  trace  it  to  its  orgin,  I  will  leave  the 
accursed  desert,  the  hateful  sunshine,  and  seek  the  bliss- 
ful regions  that  give  birth  to  cool  breezes." 

I  walked  rapidly,  and  the  breeze  became  more  energetic 
and  cooler.  With  each  increase  of  momentum  on  my 
part,  corresponding  strength  seemed  to  be  added  to  the 
breeze — both  strength  and  coolness. 

"Is  not  this  delightful  ?"  I  murmured ;  "my  God  at  last 
has  come  to  be  a  just  God.    Knowing  what  I  wanted.  He 


202  Etidorhpa 

sent  the  breeze ;  in  answer  to  my  prayer  the  cool,  refresh- 
ing breeze  arose.  Damn  the  heat,"  I  cried  aloud,  as  I 
thought  of  the  horrid  day  before ;  "blessed  be  the  cold," 
and  as  though  in  answer  to  my  cry  the  breeze  stiffened 
and  the  cold  strengthened,  and  I  again  returned  thanks 
to  my  Creator. 

With  ragged  coat  wrapped  about  my  form  I  faced  the 
breeze  and  strode  onward  toward  the  home  of  the  gelid 
wind  that  now  dashed  in  gusts  against  my  person. 

Then  I  heard  my  footstep  crunch,  and  perceived  that 
the  sand  was  hard  beneath  my  feet ;  I  stooped  over  to  ex- 
amine it,  and  found  it  frozen.  Strange,  I  reflected, 
strange  that  dry  sand  can  freeze,  and  then  I  noticed,  for 
the  first  time,  that  spurts  of  snow  surrounded  me,  'twas 
a  sleety  mixture  upon  which  I  trod,  a  crust  of  snow 
and  sand.  A  sense  of  dread  came  suddenly  over  me, 
and  instinctively  I  turned,  affrighted,  and  ran  away  from 
the  wind,  toward  the  desert  behind  me,  back  toward  the 
sun,  which,  cold  and  bleak,  low  in  the  horizon,  was  sink- 
ing. The  sense  of  dread  grew  upon  me,  and  I  shivered  as 
I  ran.  With  my  back  toward  the  breeze  I  had  blessed,  I 
now  fled  toward  the  sinking  sun  I  had  cursed.  I  stretched 
out  my  arms  in  supplication  toward  that  orb,  for  from 
behind  overhanging  blackness  spread,  and  about  me 
roared  a  fearful  hurricane.  Vainly.  As  I  thought  in 
mockery  the  heartless  sun  disappeared  before  my  gaze, 
the  hurricane  surrounded  me,  and  the  wind  about  be- 
came intensely  cold  and  raved  furiously.  It  seemed  as 
though  the  sun  had  fled  from  my  presence,  and  with  the 
disappearance  of  that  orb  the  outline  of  the  earth  was 
blotted  from  existence.  It  was  an  awful  blackness,  and 
now  the  universe  to  me  was  a  blank.  The  cold  strength- 
ened and  froze  my  body  to  the  marrow  of  my  bones. 
First  came  the  sting  of  frost,  then  the  pain  of  cold,  then 
insensibility  of  flesh.  My  feet  were  benumbed,  my  limbs 
motionless.  I  stood  a  statue,  quiescent  in  the  midst  of  the 
roaring  tempest.  The  earth,  the  sun,  the  heavens  them- 
selves, my  very  person  now  had  disappeared.  Dead  to  the 
sense  of  pain  or  touch,  sightless,  amid  a  blank,  only  the 


Misery  203 

noise  of  the  raging  winds  was  to  me  a  reality.  And  as 
the  creaking  frost  reached  my  brain  and  congealed  it,  the 
sound  of  the  tempest  ceased,  and  then  devoid  of  physical 
senses,  my  quickened  intellect,  enslaved,  remained  im- 
prisoned in  the  frozen  form  it  could  not  leave,  and  yet 
could  no  longer  control. 

Reflection  after  reflection  passed  through  that  incar- 
cerated thought  entity,  and  as  I  meditated,  the  heinous 
mistakes  I  had  committed  in  the  life  that  had  passed 
arose  to  torment.  God  had  answered  my  supplications, 
successively  I  had  experienced  the  hollowness  of  earthly 
pleasures,  and  had  left  each  lesson  unheeded.  Had  I 
not  alternately  begged  for  and  then  cursed  each  gift  of 
God?  Had  I  not  prayed  for  heat,  cold,  light,  and  dark- 
ness, and  anathematized  each?  Had  I  not,  when  in  per- 
fect silence,  prayed  for  sound ;  in  sheltered  caverns, 
prayed  for  winds  and  storms ;  in  the  very  corridors  of 
Heaven,  and  in  the  presence  of  Etidorhpa,  had  I  not 
sought  for  joys  beyond? 

Had  I  not  found  each  pleasure  of  life  a  mockery,  and 
notwithstanding  each  bitter  lesson,  still  pursued  my  head- 
strong course,  alternately  blessing  and  cursing  my  Creator, 
and  then  myself,  until  now,  amid  a  howling  waste,  in 
perfect  darkness,  my  conscious  intellect  was  bound  to  the 
frozen,  rigid  semblance  of  a  body?  All  about  me  was 
dead  and  dark,  all  within  was  still  and  cold,  only  my 
quickened  intellect  remained  as  in  every  corpse  the  self- 
conscious  intellect  must  remain,  while  the  body  has  a 
mortal  form,  for  death  of  body  is  not  attended  by  the  im- 
mediate liberation  of  mind.  The  consciousness  of  the 
dead  man  is  still  acute,  and  he  who  thinks  the  dead  are 
mindless  will  realize  his  fearful  error  when,  devoid  of 
motion,  he  lies  a  corpse,  conscious  of  all  that  passes  on 
around  him,  waiting  the  liberation  that  can  only  come 
by  disintegration  and  destruction  of  the  flesh. 

So,  unconscious  of  pain,  unconscious  of  any  physical 
sense,  I  existed  on  and  on,  enthralled,  age  after  age 
passed  and  piled  upon  one  another,  for  time  to  me  un- 


204  Etidorhpa 

changeable,  was  no  more  an  entity.  I  now  prayed  for 
change  of  any  kind,  and  envied  the  very  devils  in  hell 
their  pleasures,  for  were  they  not  gifted  with  the  power 
of  motion,  could  they  not  hear,  and  see,  and  realize  the 
pains  they  suffered?  I  prayed  for  death — death  absolute, 
death  eternal.  Then,  at  last,  the  darkness  seemed  to 
lessen,  and  I  saw  the  frozen  earth  beneath,  the  monstrous 
crags  of  ice  above,  the  raging  tempest  about,  for  I  now 
had  learned  by  reflection  to  perceive  by  pure  intellect,  to 
see  by  the  light  within.  My  body,  solid  as  stone,  was 
fixed  and  preserved  in  a  waste  of  ice.  The  world  was 
frozen.  I  perceived  that  the  sun,  and  moon,  and  stars, 
nearly  stilled,  dim  and  motionless,  had  paled  in  the  cold 
depths  of  space.  The  universe  itself  was  freezing,  and 
amid  the  desolation  only  my  deserted  intellect  remained. 
Age  after  age  had  passed,  aeons  of  ages  had  fled,  nation 
after  nation  had  grown  and  perished,  and  in  the  un- 
counted epochs  behind,  humanity  had  disappeared.  Un- 
able to  free  itself  from  the  frozen  body,  my  own  intellect 
remained  entrapped,  the  solitary  spectator  of  the  dead 
silence  about.  At  last,  beneath  my  vision,  the  moon  dis- 
appeared, the  stars  faded  one  by  one,  and  then  I  watched 
the  sun  grow  dim,  until  at  length  only  a  milky,  gauze-like 
film  remained  to  indicate  her  face,  and  then — vacancy. 
I  had  lived  the  universe  away.  And  in  perfect  darkness 
the  living  intellect,  conscious  of  all  that  had  transpired  in 
the  ages  past,  clung  still  enthralled  to  the  body  of  the 
frozen  mortal.  I  thought  of  my  record  in  the  distant 
past,  of  the  temptations  I  had  undergone,  and  called  my- 
self a  fool,  for,  had  I  listened  to  the  tempter,  I  could  at 
least  have  suffered,  I  could  have  had  companionship  even 
though  it  were  of  the  devils — in  hell.  I  lived  my  life 
over  and  over,  times  without  number ;  I  thought  of  my 
tempters,  of  the  offered  cups,  and  thinking,  argued  with 
myself: 

"No,"  I  said ;  "no,  I  made  the  promise,  I  have  yet  faith 
in  Etidorhpa,  and  were  it  to  be  done  over  again  Iwould  not 
drink." 


Misery  205 

Then,  as  this  thought  sped  from  me,  the  ice  scene  dis- 
solved, the  enveloped  frozen  form  of  myself  faded  from 
view,  the  sand  shrunk  into  nothingness,  and  with  my 
natural  body,  and  in  normal  condition,  I  found  myself 
back  in  the  earth  cavern,  on  my  knees,  beside  the  curious 
inverted  fungus,  of  which  fruit  I  had  eaten  in  obedience 
to  my  guide's  directions.  Before  me  the  familiar  figure 
of  my  guide  stood,  with  folded  arms,  and  as  my  gaze  fell 
upon  him  he  reached  out  his  hand  and  raised  me  to  my 
feet. 

''Where  have  you  been  during  the  wretched  epochs  that 
have  passed  since  I  last  saw  you?"  I  asked. 

"I  have  been  here,"  he  replied,  "and  you  have  been 
there." 

"You  lie,  you  villainous  sorcerer,"  I  cried ;  "you  lie 
again  as  you  have  lied  to  me  before.  I  followed  you  to 
the  edge  of  demon  land,  to  the  caverns  of  the  drunkards, 
and  then  you  deserted  me.  Since  last  we  met  I  have  spent 
a  million,  billion  years  of  inexpressible  agony,  and  have 
had  that  agony  made  doubly  horrible  by  contrast  with  the 
thought,  yes,  the  very  sight  and  touch  of  Heaven.  I 
passed  into  a  double  eternity,  and  have  experienced  the 
ecstasies  of  the  blessed,  and  suffered  the  torments  of  the 
damned,  and  now  you  dare  boldly  tell  me  that  I  have 
been  here,  and  that  you  have  been  there,  since  last  I  saw 
you  stand  by  this  cursed  fungus  bowl." 

"Yes,"  he  said,  taking  no  ofifence  at  my  violence ;  "yes, 
neither  of  us  has  left  this  spot ;  you  have  sipped  of  the 
drink  of  an  earth-damned  drunkard,  you  have  ex- 
perienced part  of  the  curses  of  intemperance,  the  delirium 
of  narcotics.  Thousands  of  men  on  earth, in  their  drunken 
hallucination,  have  gone  through  hotter  hells  than  you 
have  seen ;  your  dream  has  not  exaggerated  the  sufferings 
of  those  who  sup  of  the  delirium  of  intemperance." 

And  then  he  continued  : 

"Let  me  tell  you  of  man's  conception  of  eternity." 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


ETERNITY   WITHOUT  TIME. 


"Man's  conception  of  eternity  is  that  of  infinite 
duration,  continuance  without  beginning  or  end,  and  yet 
everything  he  knows  is  bounded  by  two  or  more  op- 
posites.  From  a  beginning,  as  he  sees  a  form  of  matter, 
that  substance  passes  to  an  end."   Thus  spoke  my  guide. 

Then  he  asked,  and  showed  by  his  question  that  he  ap- 
preciated the  nature  of  my  recent  experiences:  "Do  you 
recall  the  instant  that  you  left  me  standing  by  this  fungus 
bowl  to  start,  as  you  imagined,  with  me  as  a  companion, 
on  the  journey  to  the  cavern  of  the  grotesque?" 

"No;  because  I  did  not  leave  you.  I  sipped  of  the 
liquid,  and  then  you  moved  on  with  me  from  this  spot ; 
we  were  together,  until  at  last  we  were  separated  on  the 
edge  of  the  cave  of  drunkards." 

"Listen,"  said  he ;  "I  neither  left  you  nor  went  with 
you.  You  neither  went  from  this  spot  nor  came  back 
again.  You  neither  saw  nor  experienced  my  presence 
nor  my  absence  ;  there  was  no  beginning  to  your  journey." 

"Go  on." 

"You  ate  of  the  narcotic  fungus;  you  have  been  in- 
toxicated." 

"I  have  not,"  I  retorted.  "I  have  been  through  your 
accursed  caverns,  and  into  hell  beyond.  I  have  been  con- 
sumed by  eternal  damnation  in  the  journey,  have  ex- 
perienced a  heaven  of  delight,  and  also  an  eternity  of 
misery." 

"Upon  the  contrary,  the  time  that  has  passed  since  you 
drank  the  liquid  contents  of  that  fungus  fruit  has  only 
been  that  which  permitted  you  to  fall  upon  your  knees. 
You  swallowed  the  liquor  when  I  handed  you  the  shell 
cup ;  you  dropped  upon  your  knees,  and  then  instantly 


Eternity  Without  Time  207 

awoke.  See,"  he  said ;  "in  corroboration  of  my  assertion 
the  shell  of  the  fungus  fruit  at  your  feet  is  still  dripping 
with  the  liquid  you  did  not  drink.  Time  has  been 
annihilated.  Under  the  influence  of  this  potent  earth- 
bred  narcoto-intoxicant  your  dream  begun  inside  of 
eternity;  you  did  not  pass  into  it." 

"You  say,"  I  interrupted,  "that  I  dropped  upon  my 
knees,  that  I  have  experienced  the  hallucination  of  in- 
toxication, that  the  experiences  of  my  vision  occurred 
during  the  second  of  time  that  was  required  for  me  to 
drop  upon  my  knees." 

"Yes." 

"Then  by  your  own  argument  you  demonstrate  that 
eternity  requires  time,  for  even  a  millionth  part  of  a  sec- 
ond is  time,  as  much  so  as  a  million  of  years." 

"You  mistake,"  he  replied,  "you  misinterpret  my 
words.  I  said  that  all  you  experienced  in  your  eternity 
of  suffering  and  pleasure  occurred  between  the  point 
when  you  touched  the  fungus  fruit  to  your  lips  and  that 
when  your  knees  struck  the  stone." 

"That  consumed  time,"  I  answered. 

"Did  I  assert,"  he  questioned,  "that  your  experiences 
were  scattered  over  that  entire  period?" 

"No." 

"May  not  all  that  occurred  to  your  mind  have  been 
crushed  into  the  second  that  accompanied  the  mental  im- 
pression produced  by  the  liquor,  or  the  second  of  time 
that  followed,  or  any  other  part  of  that  period,  or  a  frac- 
tion of  any  integral  second  of  that  period?" 

"I  cannot  say,"  I  answered,  "what  part  of  tlie  period 
the  hallucination,  as  you  call  it,  occupied." 

"You  admit  that  so  far  as  your  conception  of  time  is 
concerned,  the  occurrences  to  which  you  refer  may  have 
existed  in  either  an  inestimable  fraction  of  the  first,  the 
second,  or  the  third  part  of  the  period." 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "yes ;  if  you  are  correct  in  that,  they 
were  illusions." 

"Let  me  ask  you  furthermore,"  he  said ;  "are  you  sure 


2o8  Etidorhpa 

that  the  flash  that  bred  your  hallucination  was  not  in- 
stantaneous, and  a  part  of  neither  the  first,  second,  nor 
third  second  ?" 

"Continue  your  argument." 

"I  will  repeat  a  preceding  question  with  a  slight  modi- 
fication. May  not  all  that  occurred  to  your  mind  have 
been  crushed  into  the  space  between  the  second  of  time 
that  preceded  the  mental  impression  produced  by  the 
liquor,  and  the  second  that  followed  it  ?  Need  it  have  been 
a  part  of  either  second,  or  of  time  at  all?  Indeed,  could 
it  have  been  a  part  of  time  if  it  were  instantaneous?" 

"Go  on." 

"Suppose  the  entity  that  men  call  the  soul  of  man  were 
in  process  of  separation  from  the  body.  The  process  you 
will  admit  would  occupy  time,  until  the  point  of  liberation 
was  reached.  Would  not  dissolution,  so  far  as  the 
separation  of  matter  and  spirit  is  concerned  at  its  critical 
point,  be  instantaneous?" 

I  made  no  reply. 

"If  the  critical  point  is  instantaneous,  there  would  be 
no  beginning,  there  could  be  no  end.  Therein  rests  an 
eternity  greater  than  man  can  otherwise  conceive  of,  for 
as  there  is  neither  beginning  nor  end,  time  and  space  are 
annihilated.  The  line  that  separates  the  soul  that  is  in  the 
body  from  the  soul  that  is  out  of  the  body  is  outside  of  all 
things.  It  is  a  between,  neither  a  part  of  the  nether  side 
nor  of  the  upper  side ;  it  is  outside  the  here  and  the  here- 
after. Let  us  carry  this  thought  a  little  farther,"  said  he. 
"Suppose  a  good  man  were  to  undergo  this  change,  could 
not  all  that  an  eternity  of  happiness  might  offer  be 
crushed  into  this  boundless  conception,  the  critical  point  ? 
All  that  a  mother  craves  in  children  dead  could  reappear 
again  in  their  once  loved  forms ;  all  that  a  good  life  earns 
would  rest  in  the  soul's  experience  in  that  eternity,  but 
not  as  an  illusion,  although  no  mental  pleasure,  no 
physical  pain  is  equal  to  that  of  hallucinations.  Sup- 
pose that  a  vicious  life  were  ended,  could  it  escape  the 
inevitable  critical  point?    Would  not  that  life  in  its  pre- 


Eternity  Without  Time  209 

vious  journey  create  its  own  sad  eternity?  You  have  seen 
the  working  of  an  eternity  with  an  end,  but  not  a  begin- 
ning to  it,  for  you  cannot  sense  the  commencement  of 
your  vision.  You  have  been  in  the  cavern  of  the 
grotesque — the  realms  of  the  beautiful,  and  have  walked 
over  the  boundless  sands  that  bring  misery  to  the  soul, 
and  have,  as  a  statue,  seen  the  frozen  universe  dissolve. 
You  are  thankful  that  it  was  all  an  illusion  as  you  deem 
it  now ;  what  would  you  think  had  only  the  heavenly  part 
been  spread  before  you  ?" 

"I  would  have  cursed  the  man  who  dispelled  the  il- 
lusion," I  answered, 

"Then,"  he  said,  "you  are  willing  to  admit  that  men  who 
so  live  as  to  gain  such  an  eternity,  be  it  mental  illusion, 
hallucination  or  real,  make  no  mistake  in  life." 

"I  do,"  I  replied ;  "but  you  confound  me  when  you 
argue  in  so  cool  a  manner  that  eternity  may  be  everlasting 
to  the  soul,  and  yet  without  the  conception  of  time." 

"Did  I  not  teach  you  in  the  beginning  of  this  journey," 
he  interjected,  "that  time  is  not  as  men  conceive  it?  Men 
cannot  grasp  an  idea  of  eternity  and  retain  their  sun-bred, 
morning  and  evening,  conception  of  time.  Therein  lies 
their  error.  As  the  tip  of  the  whip-lash  passes  with  the 
lash,  so  through  life  the  soul  of  man  proceeds  with  the 
body.  As  there  is  a  point  just  when  the  tip  of  the  whip- 
lash is  on  the  edge  of  its  return,  where  all  motion  of  the 
line  that  bounds  the  tip  ends,  so  there  is  a  motionless 
point  when  the  soul  starts  onward  from  the  body  of  man. 
As  the  tip  of  the  whip-lash  sends  its  cry  through  space, 
not  while  it  is  in  motion  either  way,  but  from  the  point 
where  motion  ceases,  the  spaceless,  timeless  point  that  lies 
between  the  backward  and  the  forward,  so  the  soul  of 
man  leaves  a  cry  (eternity)  at  the  critical  point.  It  is  the 
death  echo,  and  thus  each  snap  of  the  life-thread  throws 
an  eternity,  its  own  eternity,  into  eternity's  seas,  and  each 
eternity  is  made  up  of  the  entities  thus  cast  from  the 
critical  point.  With  the  end  of  each  soul's  earth  journey, 
a  new  eternity  springs  into  existence,  occupying  no  space, 


2IO  Etidorhpa 

consuming  no  time,  and  not  conflicting  with  any  other, 
each  being  exactly  what  the  soul's  earth  record  makes  it, 
an  eternity  of  joy  (Heaven),  or  an  eternity  of  anguish 
(Hell).    There  can  be  no  neutral  ground." 

Then  he  continued : 

"The  drunkard  is  destined  to  suffer  in  the  drunkard's 
eternity,  as  you  have  suffered ;  the  enticement  of  drink 
is  evanescent,  the  agony  to  follow  is  eternal.  You  have 
seen  that  the  sub-regions  of  earth  supply  an  intoxicant. 
Taste  not  again  of  any  intoxicant ;  let  your  recent  lesson 
be  your  last.  Any  stimulant  is  an  enemy  to  man,  any 
narcotic  is  a  fiend.  It  destroys  its  victim,  and  corrupts 
the  mind,  entices  it  into  pastures  grotesque,  and  even 
pleasant  at  first,  but  destined  to  eternal  misery  in  the  end. 
Beware  of  the  eternity  that  follows  the  snapping  of  the 
life-thread  of  a  drunkard.  Come,"  he  abruptly  said,  ''let 
us  pursue  our  journey." 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

THE  FATHOMLESS  ABYSS. — THE  EDGE  OF  THE  EARTH  SHELL. 

For  a  long  time  thereafter  we  journeyed  on  in  silence, 
now  amid  stately  stone  pillars,  then  through  great  cliff 
openings  or  among  gigantic  formations  that  often 
stretched  away  like  cities  or  towns  dotted  over  a  plain, 
to  vanish  in  the  distance.  Then  the  scene  changed,  and 
we  traversed  magnificent  avenues,  bounded  by  solid  walls 
which  expanded  into  lofty  caverns  of  illimitable  extent, 
from  whence  we  found  ourselves  creeping  through  nar- 
row crevices  and  threading  winding  passages  barely 
sufficient  to  admit  our  bodies.  For  a  considerable  period 
I  had  noted  the  absence  of  water,  and  as  we  passed  from 
grotto  to  temple  reared  without  hands,  it  occurred  to  me 
that  I  could  not  now  observe  evidence  of  water  erosion  in 
the  stony  surface  over  which  we  trod,  and  which  had  been 
so  abundant  before  we  reached  the  lake.  My  guide  ex- 
plained by  saying  in  reply  to  my  thought  question,  that 
we  were  beneath  the  water  line.  He  said  that  liquids 
were  impelled  back  toward  the  earth's  surface  from  a 
point  unnoticed  by  me,  but  long  since  passed.  Neither 
did  I  now  experience  hunger  nor  thirst,  in  the  slightest 
degree,  a  circumstance  which  my  guide  assured  me  was 
perfectly  natural  in  view  of  the  fact  that  there  was  neither 
waste  of  tissue  nor  consumption  of  heat  in  my  present 
organism. 

At  last  I  observed  far  in  the  distance  a  slanting  sheet 
of  light  that,  fan-shaped,  stood  as  a  barrier  across  the 
way ;  beyond  it  neither  earth  nor  earth's  surface  appeared. 
As  we  approached,  the  distinctness  of  its  outline  disap- 
peared, and  when  we  came  nearer,  I  found  that  it 
streamed  into  the  space  above,  from  what  appeared  to  be 


2  I  2  Etidorhpa 

a  crevice  or  break  in  the  earth  that  stretched  across  our 
pathway,  and  was  apparently  Hmitless  and  bottomless. 

"Is  this  another  hallucination?"  I  queried. 

"No;  it  is  a  reality.    Let  us  advance  to  the  brink." 

Slowly  we  pursued  our  way,  for  I  hesitated  and  held 
back.  I  had  really  begun  to  distrust  my  own  senses,  and 
my  guide  in  the  lead  was  even  forced  to  demonstrate  the 
feasibility  of  the  way,  step  by  step,  before  I  could  be  in- 
duced to  follow.  At  length  we  neared  the  edge  of  the 
chasm,  and  while  he  stood  boldly  upright  by  the  brink, 
with  fear  and  trembling  I  crept  on  my  knees  to  his  side, 
and  together  we  faced  a  magnificent  but  fearful  void  that 
stretched  beneath  and  beyond  us,  into  a  profundity  of 
space.  I  peered  into  the  chamber  of  light,  that  inde- 
scribable gulf  of  brilliancy,  but  vainly  sought  for  an  op- 
posite w'all ;  there  was  none.  As  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  vacancy,  illuminated  vacancy,  greeted  my  vision. 
The  light  that  sprung  from  that  void  was  not  dazzling, 
but  was  possessed  of  a  beauty  that  no  words  can  suggest. 
I  peered  downward,  and  found  that  we  stood  upon  the 
edge  of  a  shelving  ledge  of  stone  that  receded  rapidly 
beneath  us,  so  that  we  seemed  to  rest  upon  the  upper  side 
of  its  wedge-like  edge.  I  strained  my  vision  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  bottom  of  this  chasm,  but  although  I  real- 
ized that  my  eyes  were  glancing  into  miles  and  miles  of 
space,  there  was  no  evidence  of  earthly  material  other 
than  the  brink  upon  which  we  stood. 

The  limit  of  vision  seemed  to  be  bounded  by  a  silvery 
blending  of  light  with  light,  light  alone,  only  light.  The 
dead  silence  about,  and  the  new  light  before  me,  combined 
to  produce  a  weird  sensation,  inexplicable,  overpowering. 
A  speck  of  dust  on  the  edge  of  immensity,  I  clung  to  the 
stone  cliff,  gazing  into  the  depths  of  that  immeasurable 
void. 


■i'n,   11  \K    \M'    I  i-i  ^'1''  ' 


KKIT    iiN      ^ 


^       KNKKS     TO    HIS    SinK. 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

MY  HEART  THROB  IS  STILLED,  AND  YET  I  LIVE. 

"It  now  becomes  my  duty  to  inform  you  that  this  is 
one  of  the  stages  in  our  journey  that  can  only  be  passed 
by  the  exercise  of  the  greatest  will  force.  Owing  to  our 
former  surroundings  upon  the  surface  of  the  earth,  and 
to  your  inheritance  of  a  so-called  instinctive  education, 
you  would  naturally  suppose  that  we  are  now  on  the  brink 
of  an  impassable  chasm.  This  sphere  of  material  vacuity 
extends  beneath  us  to  a  depth  that  I  am  sure  you  will  be 
astonished  to  learn  is  over  six  thousand  miles.  We  may 
now  look  straight  into  the  earth  cavity,  and  this  stream- 
ing light  is  the  reflected  purity  of  the  space  below.  The 
opposite  side  of  this  crevice,  out  of  sight  by  reason  of  its 
distance,  but  horizontally  across  from  where  we  stand, 
is  precipitous  and  comparatively  solid,  extending  upward 
to  the  materal  that  forms  the  earth's  surface.  We  have, 
during  our  journey,  traversed  an  oblique,  tortuous 
natural  passage,  that  extends  from  the  spot  at  which  you 
entered  the  cave  in  Kentucky,  diagonally  down  into  the 
crust  of  the  globe,  terminating  in  this  shelving  bluff.  I 
would  recall  to  your  mind  that  your  journey  up  to  this 
time  has  been  of  your  own  free  will  and  accord.  At  each 
period  of  vacillation — and  you  could  not  help  but  waver 
occasionally — you  have  been  at  liberty  to  return  to  sur- 
face earth  again,  but  each  time  you  decided  wisely  to  con- 
tinue your  course.  You  can  now  return  if  your  courage 
is  not  sufficient  to  overcome  your  fear,  but  this  is  the  last 
opportunity  you  will  have  to  reconsider  while  in  my  com- 
pany," so  spoke  my  guide. 

"Have  others  overcome  the  instinctive  terrors  to  which 
you  allude?" 

"Yes ;  but  usually  the  dread  of  death,  or  an  unbearable 


214  Etidorhpa 


uncertainty,  compels  the  traveller  to  give  up  in  despair 
before  reaching  this  spot,  and  the  opportunity  of  a  life- 
time is  lost.  Yes ;  an  opportunity  that  occurs  only  in  the 
lifetime  of  one  person  out  of  millions,  of  but  few  in  our 
brotherhood." 

"Then  I  can  return  if  I  so  elect?" 

"Certainly." 

"Will  you  inform  me  concerning  the  nature  of  the 
obstacle  I  have  to  overcome,  that  you  indicate  by  your 
vague  references?" 

"We  must  descend  from  this  cliff." 

"You  cannot  be  in  earnest." 

"Why?" 

"Do  you  not  see  that  the  stone  recedes  from  beneath 
us,  that  we  stand  on  the  edge  of  a  wedge  overhanging 
bottomless  space?" 

"That  I  understand." 

"There  is  no  ladder,"  and  then  the  foolish  remark 
abashed  me  as  I  thought  of  a  ladder  six  thousand  miles 
in  length. 

"Go  on." 

He  made  no  reference  to  my  confusion. 

"There  is  practically  no  bottom,"  I  asserted,  "if  I  can 
believe  your  words ;  you  told  me  so." 

"And  that  I  reiterate." 

"The  feat  is  impracticable,  impossible,  and  only  a  mad- 
man would  think  of  trying  to  descend  into  such  a  depth  of 
space." 

Then  an  idea  came  over  me ;  perhaps  there  existed  a 
route  at  some  other  point  of  the  earth's  crevice  by  which 
we  could  reach  the  under  side  of  the  stone  shelf,  and  I  in- 
timated as  much  to  the  guide. 

"No;  we  must  descend  from  this  point,  for  it  is  the 
only  entrance  to  the  hollow  beneath." 

We  withdrew  from  the  brink,  and  I  meditated  in 
silence.  Then  I  crept  again  to  the  edge  of  the  bluff,  and 
lying  flat  on  my  chest,  craned  my  head  over,  and  peered 
down  into  the  luminous  gulf.    The  texture  of  the  reced- 


My  Heart  Throb  is  Stilled  2 1 5 

ing  material  was  distinctly  visible  for  a  considerable  dis- 
tance, and  then  far,  far  beneath  all  semblance  to  material 
form  disappeared — as  the  hull  of  a  vessel  fades  in  deep, 
clear  water.  As  I  gazed  into  the  gulf  it  seemed  evident 
that,  as  a  board  floating  in  water  is  bounded  by  water,  this 
rock  really  ended.  I  turned  to  my  guide  and  questioned 
him. 

"Stone  in  this  situation  is  as  cork,"  he  replied ;  "it  is 
nearly  devoid  of  weight ;  your  surmise  is  correct.  We 
stand  on  the  shelving  edge  of  a  cliff  of  earthly  matter, 
that  in  this  spot  slants  upward  from  beneath  like  the  bow 
of  a  boat.  We  have  reached  the  bottom  of  the  film  of 
space  dust  on  the  bubble  of  energy  that  forms  the  skeleton 
of  earth." 

I  clutched  the  edge  of  the  cliff  with  both  hands. 

"Be  not  frightened ;  have  I  not  told  you  that  if  you 
wish  to  return  you  can  do  so.    Now  hearken  to  me : 

"A  short  time  ago  you  endeavored  to  convince  me  that 
we  could  not  descend  from  this  precipice,  and  you  are 
aware  that  your  arguments  were  without  foundation. 
You  drew  upon  your  knowledge  of  earth  materials,  as 
you  once  learned  them,  and  realized  at  the  time  that  you 
deluded  yourself  in  doing  so,  for  you  know  that  present 
conditions  are  not  such  as  exist  above  ground.  You  are 
now  influenced  by  surroundings  that  are  entirely  different 
from  those  that  govern  the  lives  of  men  upon  the  earth's 
surface.  You  are  almost  without  weight.  You  have 
nearly  ceased  to  breathe,  as  long  since  you  discovered, 
and  soon  I  hope  will  agree  entirely  to  suspend  that  harsh 
and  wearying  movement.  Your  heart  scarcely  pulsates, 
and  if  you  go  with  me  farther  in  this  journev,  will  soon 
cease  to  beat." 

I  started  up  and  turned  to  flee,  but  he  grasped  and  held 
me  firmly. 

"Would  you  murder  me?  Do  you  think  I  will  mutely 
acquiesce  while  you  coolly  inform  me  of  your  inhuman 
intent,  and  gloat  over  the  fact  that  my  heart  will  soon 
be  as  stone,  and  that  I  shall  be  a  corpse?"   He  attempted 


2i6  Etidorhpa 

to  break  in,  but  I  proceeded  in  frenzy.  "I  will  return  to 
upper  earth,  to  sunshine  and  humanity.  I  will  retreat 
while  yet  in  health  and  strength,  and  although  I  have  in 
apparent  willingness  accompanied  you  to  this  point,  learn 
now  that  at  all  times  I  have  been  possessed  of  the  means 
to  defend  myself  from  personal  violence."  I  drew  from 
my  pocket  the  bar  of  iron.  "See,  this  I  secreted  about  my 
person  in  the  fresh  air  of  upper  earth,  the  sweet  sunshine 
of  heaven,  fearing  that  I  might  fall  into  the  hands  of  men 
with  whom  I  must  combat.    Back,  back,"  I  cried. 

He  released  his  hold  of  my  person,  and  folded  his  arms 
upon  his  breast,  then  quietly  faced  me,  standing  directly 
between  myself  and  the  passage  we  had  trod,  while  I 
stood  on  the  brink,  my  back  to  that  fearful  chasm. 

By  a  single  push  he  could  thrust  me  into  the  fathomless 
gulf  below,  and  with  the  realization  of  that  fact,  I  felt 
that  it  was  now  a  life  and  death  struggle.  With  every 
muscle  strained  to  its  utmost  tension,  with  my  soul  on  fire, 
my  brain  frenzied,  I  drew  back  the  bar  of  iron  to  smite 
the  apparently  defenceless  being  in  the  forehead,  but  he 
moved  not,  and  as  I  made  the  motion,  he  calmly  re- 
marked :  "Do  you  remember  the  history  of  Hiram  Abiff  ?" 

The  hand  that  held  the  weapon  dropped  as  if  stricken 
by  paralysis,  and  a  flood  of  recollections  concerning  my 
lost  home  overcame  me.  I  had  raised  my  hand  against  a 
brother,  the  only  being  of  my  kind  who  could  aid  me  or 
assist  me  either  to  advance  or  recede.  How  could  I,  un- 
aided, recross  that  glassy  lake,  and  pass  through  the 
grotesque  forests  of  fungi  and  the  labyrinth  of  crystal 
grottoes  of  the  salt  bed?  How  could  I  find  my  way  in 
the  utter  darkness  that  existed  in  the  damp,  soppy,  drip- 
ping upper  caverns  that  I  must  retrace  before  I  could 
hope  to  reach  the  surface  of  the  earth?  "Forgive  me,"  I 
sobbed,  and  sunk  at  his  feet.  "Forgive  me,  my  friend,  my 
brother ;  I  have  been  wild,  mad,  am  crazed."  He  made  no 
reply,  but  pointed  over  my  shoulder  into  the  space  be- 
yond. 

I  turned,  and  in  the  direction  indicated,  saw,  in  amaze- 


My  Heart  Throb  is  Stilled  217 

ment,  floating  in  the  distant  space,  a  snow  and  ice-clad 
vessel  in  full  sail.  She  was  headed  diagonally  from  us, 
and  was  moving  rapidly  across  the  field  of  vision.  Every 
spar  and  sail  was  clearly  defined,  and  on  her  deck  and  in 
the  rigging  I  beheld  sailors  clad  in  winter  garments 
pursuing  their  various  duties. 

As  I  gazed,  enraptured,  she  disappeared  in  the  distance. 

"A  phantom  vessel,"  I  murmured. 

"No,"  he  replied ;  "the  abstraction  of  a  vessel  sailing 
on  the  ocean  above  us.  Every  object  on  earth  is  the  sec- 
ond to  an  imprint  in  another  place.  There  is  an  apparent 
reproduction  of  matter  in  so-called  vacancy,  and  on  un- 
seen pages  a  recording  of  all  events.  As  that  ship  sailed 
over  the  ocean  above  us,  she  disturbed  a  current  of 
energy,  and  it  left  its  impress  as  an  outline  on  a  certain 
zone  beneath,  which  is  parallel  with  that  upon  which  we 
now  chance  to  stand." 

"I  cannot  comprehend,"  I  muttered. 

"No,"  he  answered  ;  "to  you  it  seems  miraculous,  as  to  all 
men  an  unexplained  phenomenon  approaches  the  super- 
natural. All  that  is  is  natural.  Have  men  not  been  told 
in  sacred  writings  that  their  every  movement  is  being  re- 
corded in  the  Book  of  Life,  and  do  they  not  often  doubt 
because  they  cannot  grasp  the  problem?  May  not  the 
greatest  scientist  be  a  pronounced  sceptic?" 

"Yes,"  I  replied. 

"You  have  just  seen,"  he  said,  "the  record  of  an  act  on 
earth,  and  in  detail  it  is  being  printed  elsewhere  in  the 
Book  of  Eternity.  If  you  should  return  to  earth's  surface 
you  could  not  by  stating  these  facts  convince  even  the  per- 
sons on  that  same  ship  of  your  sanity.  You  could  not 
make  them  believe  that  hundreds  of  miles  beneath  both 
their  vessel  and  its  crew  had  been  reproduced  in  fac- 
simile, could  you?" 

"No." 

"Were  you  to  return  to  earth  you  could  not  convince 
men  that  you  had  existed  without  breath,  with  a  heart 
dead  within  you.     If  you  should  try  to  impress  on  man- 


2 1 8  Etidorhpa 

kind  the  facts  that  you  have  learned  in  this  journey,  what 
would  be  the  result?" 

"I  would  probably  be  considered  mentally  deranged; 
this  I  have  before  admitted." 

"Would  it  not  be  better  then,"  he  continued,  "to  go  with 
me,  by  your  own  free  will,  into  the  unknown  future, 
which  you  need  fear  less  than  a  return  to  the  scoffing  mul- 
titude amid  the  storms  of  upper  earth?  You  know  that 
I  have  not  at  any  time  deceived  you.  I  have,  as  yet,  only 
opened  before  you  a  part  of  one  rare  page  out  of  the 
boundless  book  of  Nature ;  you  have  tasted  of  the  sweets 
of  which  few  persons  in  the  flesh  have  sipped,  and  I  now 
promise  you  a  further  store  of  knowledge  that  is  rich 
beyond  conception,  if  you  wish  to  continue  your  journey." 

"What  if  I  decide  to  return?" 

"I  will  retrace  my  footsteps  and  liberate  you  upon  the 
surface  of  the  earth,  as  I  have  others,  for  few  persons 
have  courage  enough  to  pass  this  spot." 

"Binding  me  to  an  oath  of  secrecy?" 

"No,"  he  answered ;  "for  if  you  relate  these  events  men 
will  consider  you  a  madman,  and  the  more  clearly  you  at- 
tempt to  explain  the  facts  that  you  have  witnessed,  the 
less  they  will  listen  to  you ;  such  has  been  the  fate  of 
others." 

"It  is,  indeed,  better  for  me  to  go  with  you,"  I  said 
musingly;  "to  that  effect  my  mind  is  now  made  up,  my 
course  is  clear,  I  am  ready." 

With  a  motion  so  quick  in  conception  and  rapid  in  ex- 
ecution that  I  was  taken  altagether  by  surprise,  with  a 
grasp  so  powerful  that  I  could  not  have  repelled  him,  had 
I  expected  the  movement  and  tried  to  protect  myself,  the 
strange  man  or  being  beside  me  threw  his  arms  around 
my  body.  Then,  as  a  part  of  the  same  movement,  he 
raised  me  bodily  from  the  stone,  and  before  I  could  real- 
ize the  nature  of  his  intention  sprung  from  the  edge  of 
the  cliff  into  the  abyss  below,  carrying  me  with  him  into 
its  depths. 


SPRUNG  FROM   THE  EDGE  OF  THE   CLIFF  INTO  THE  ABYSS 
BELOW,   CARRYING   ME   WITH    HIM    INTO  ITS  DEPTHS." 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

THE  INNER  CIRCLE,  OR  THE  END  OF  GRAVITATION. IN  THE 

BOTTOMLESS    GULF. 

I  RECALL  a  whirling  sensation,  and  an  involuntary  at- 
tempt at  self-preservation,  in  which  I  threw  my  arms 
wildly  about  with  a  vain  endeavor  to  clutch  some  form  of 
solid  body,  which  movement  naturally  ended  by  a  tight 
clasping  of  my  guide  in  my  arms,  and  locked  together  we 
continued  to  speed  down  into  the  seven  thousand  miles  of 
vacancy.  Instinctively  I  murmured  a  prayer  of  sup- 
plication, and  awaited  the  approaching  catastrophe, 
which,  as  I  believed,  would  quickly  witness  the  ex- 
tinction of  my  unhappy  life,  the  end  of  my  material  exist- 
ence; but  the  moments  multiplied  without  bodily  shock 
or  physical  pain  of  any  description ;  I  retained  my  con- 
sciousness. 

"Open  your  eyes,"  said  my  guide,  "you  have  no  cause 
for  fear." 

I  acquiesced  in  an  incredulous,  dazed  manner. 

"This  unusual  experience  is  sufficient  to  unnerve  you, 
but  you  need  have  no  fear,  for  you  are  not  in  corporal 
danger,  and  can  relax  your  grasp  on  my  person." 

I  cautiously  obeyed  him,  misgivingly,  and  slowly 
loosened  my  hold,  then  gazed  about  to  find  that  we  were 
in  a  sea  of  light,  and  that  only  light  was  visible,  that  form 
of  light  which  I  have  before  defined  as  an  entity  without 
source  of  radiation.  In  one  direction,  however,  a  great 
gray  cloud  hung  suspended  and  gloomy,  dark  in  the 
centre,  and  shading  therefrom  in  a  circle,  to  disappear 
entirely  at  an  angle  of  about  forty-five  degrees. 

"This  is  the  earth-shelf  from  which  we  sprung,"  said 
the  guide ;  "it  will  soon  disappear." 

Wherever  I  glanced  this  radiant  exhalation,  a  peaceful. 


The  Inner  Circle  221 

luminous  envelope,  this  rich,  soft,  beautiful  white  light 
appeared.  The  power  of  bodily  motion  I  found  still  a 
factor  in  my  frame,  obedient,  as  before,  to  my  will.  I 
could  move  my  limbs  freely,  and  my  intellect  seemed  to 
be  intact.  Finally  I  became  impressed  with  the  idea  that 
I  must  be  at  perfect  rest,  but  if  so  what  could  be  the 
nature  of  the  substance,  or  material,  upon  which  I  was 
resting  so  complacently?  No;  this  could  not  be.  Then 
I  thought :  'T  have  been  instantly  killed  by  a  painless 
shock,  and  my  spirit  is  in  Heaven ;"  but  my  earthly  body 
and  coarse,  ragged  garments  were  palpable  realities ;  the 
sense  of  touch,  sight,  and  hearing  surely  were  normal, 
and  a  consideration  of  these  facts  dispelled  my  first  con- 
ception. 

"Where  are  we  now?"  I  ventured  to  ask. 

"Moving  into  earth's  central  space,"  was  the  reply. 

"I  comprehend  that  a  rushing  wind  surrounds  us  which 
is  not  uncomfortable,  but  otherwise  I  experience  no  un- 
usual sensation,  and  cannot  realize  but  that  I  am  at  rest." 

"The  sensation  as  of  blowing  wind  is  in  consequence 
of  our  rapid  motion,  and  results  from  the  friction  be- 
tween our  bodies  and  the  quiescent,  attenuated  atmos- 
phere which  exists  even  here,  but  this  atmosphere  be- 
comes less  and  less  in  amount  until  it  will  disappear 
altogether  at  a  short  distance  below  us.  Soon  we  shall  be 
in  a  perfect  calm,  and  although  moving  rapidly,  to  all 
appearances  shall  be  at  absolute  rest." 

Naturally,  perhaps,  my  mind  attempted,  as  it  so  often 
had  done,  to  urge  objections  to  his  statements,  and  at 
first  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  did  not  experience  the 
peculiar  sinking  away  sensation  in  the  chest  that  I  re- 
membered follows,  on  earth,  the  downward  motion  of  a 
person  falling  from  a  great  height,  or  moving  rapidly  in  a 
swing,  and  I  questioned  him  on  the  absence  of  that 
phenomenon. 

'  "The  explanation  is  simple,"  he  said ;  "on  the  surface 
of  the  earth  a  sudden  motion,  either  upward  or  down- 
ward, disturbs  the  equilibrium  of  the  organs  of  respira- 


22  2  Etidorhpa 

tion,  and  of  the  heart,  and  interferes  with  the  circulation 
of  the  blood.  This  produces  a  change  in  blood  pressure 
within  the  brain,  and  the  'sinking'  sensation  in  the  chest, 
or  the  dizziness  of  the  head  of  a  person  moving  rapidly, 
or  it  may  even  result  in  unconsciousness  and  complete 
suspension  of  respiration,  effects  which  sometimes  fol- 
low rapid  movements,  as  in  a  person  falling  from  a  con- 
siderable height.  Here  circumstances  are  entirely  differ- 
ent. The  heart  is  quiet,  the  lungs  in  a  comatose  condition, 
and  the  blood  stagnant.  ^Mental  sensations,  therefore, 
that  result  from  a  disturbed  condition  of  these  organs  are 
wanting,  and,  although  we  are  experiencing  rapid  motion, 
we  are  in  the  full  possession  of  our  physical  selves,  and 
maintain  our  mental  faculties  unimpaired." 

Again  I  interposed  an  objection: 

"If,  as  you  say,  we  are  really  passing  through  an  at- 
tenuated atmosphere  with  increasing  velocity,  according 
to  the  law  that  governs  falling  bodies  that  are  acted  upon 
by  gravity  which  continually  accelerates  their  motion,  the 
friction  between  ourselves  and  the  air  will  ultimately  be- 
come so  intense  as  to  wear  away  our  bodies." 

"Upon  the  contrary,"  said  he,  "this  attenuated  atmos- 
phere is  decreasing  in  density  more  rapidly  than  our 
velocity  increases,  and  before  long  it  will  have  altogether 
disappeared.  You  can  perceive  that  the  wind,  as  you  call 
it,  is  blowing  less  violently  than  formerly ;  soon  it  will 
entirely  cease,  as  I  have  already  predicted,  and  at  that 
period,  regardless  of  our  motion,  we  shall  appear  to  be 
stationary." 

Pondering  over  the  final  result  of  this  strange  ex- 
perience I  became  again  alarmed,  for  accepting  the  facts 
to  be  as  he  stated,  such  motion  would  ultimately  carry  us 
against  the  opposite  crust  of  the  earth,  and  without  a 
doubt  the  shock  would  end  our  existence.  I  inquired 
about  this,  to  me,  self-evident  fact,  and  he  replied : 

"Long  before  we  reach  the  opposite  crust  of  the  earth 
our  motion  will  be  arrested." 

I  had  begun  now  to  feel  a  self-confidence  that  is  sur- 


The  Inner  Circle  223 

prising  as  I  recall  that  remarkable  position  in  connection 
with  my  narrow  experience  in  true  science,  and  can  say 
that  instead  of  despondency,  I  really  enjoyed  an  elated 
sensation,  a  curious  exhilaration,  a  feeling  of  delight, 
which  I  have  no  words  to  describe.  Life  disturbances  and 
mental  worry  seemed  to  have  completely  vanished,  and  it 
appeared  as  if,  with  lucid  mental  perception,  I  were  un- 
der the  influence  of  a  powerful  soporific ;  the  cares  of 
mortals  had  disappeared.  After  a  while  the  wind  ceased 
to  blow,  as  my  guide  had  predicted,  and  with  the  sus- 
pension of  that  factor,  all  that  remained  to  remind  me 
of  earth  phenomena  had  vanished.  There  was  no  motion 
of  material,  nothing  to  mar  or  disturb  the  most  perfect 
peace  imaginable ;  I  was  so  exquisitely  happy  that  I  now 
actually  feared  some  change  might  occur  to  interrupt  that 
quiescent  existence.  It  was  as  a  deep,  sweet  sleep  in 
which,  with  faculties  alive,  unconsciousness  was  self- 
conscious,  peaceful,  restful,  blissful.  I  listlessly  turned 
my  eyes,  searching  space  in  all  directions — to  meet 
vacancy  everywhere,  absolute  vacancy.  I  took  from  my 
pocket  (into  which  I  had  hastily  thrust  it)  the  bar  of 
iron,  and  released  it ;  the  metal  remained  motionless  be- 
side me. 

"Travelling  through  this  expanse  with  the  rapidity  of 
ourselves,"  said  my  guide. 

I  closed  my  eyes  and  endeavored  to  convince  myself 
that  I  was  dreaming — vainly,  however.  I  opened  my 
eyes,  and  endeavored  to  convince  myself  that  I  was  mov- 
ing, equally  in  vain.  I  became  oblivious  to  everything 
save  the  delicious  sensation  of  absolute  rest  that  en- 
veloped and  pervaded  my  being. 

"I  am  neither  alive  nor  dead,"  I  murmured ;  "neither 
asleep  nor  awake ;  neither  moving  nor  at  rest,  and  neither 
standing,  reclining,  nor  sitting.  If  I  exist  I  cannot  bring 
evidence  to  prove  that  fact,  neither  can  I  prove  that  I  am 
dead." 

"Can  any  man  prove  either  of  these  premises?"  said 
the  guide. 


2  24  Etidorhpa 

"I  have  never  questioned  the  matter,"  said  I;  "it  is  a 
self-evident  fact." 

"Know  then,"  said  he,  "that  existence  is  a  theory,  and 
that  man  is  incapable  of  demonstrating  that  he  has  a 
being.  All  evidences  of  mortal  life  are  only  as  the  phan- 
tasms of  hallucination.  As  a  moment  in  dreamland  may 
span  a  life  of  time,  the  dreamer  altogether  unconscious 
that  it  is  a  dream,  so  may  life  itself  be  a  shadow,  the  vision 
of  a  distempered  fancy,  the  illusion  of  a  floating  thought." 

"Are  pain,  pleasure,  the  act  of  living,  imaginary 
creations?"  I  asked  facetiously. 

"Is  there  a  madman  who  does  not  imagine,  as  facts, 
what  others  agree  upon  as  hallucinations  peculiar  to  him- 
self? Is  it  not  impossible  to  distinguish  between  differ- 
ent gradations  of  illusions,  and  is  it  not,  therefore, 
possible  that  even  self-existence  is  an  illusion?  What 
evidence  can  any  man  produce  to  prove  that  his  idea  of 
life  is  not  a  madman's  dream?" 

"Proceed,"  I  said. 

"At  another  time,  perhaps,"  he  remarked ;  "we  have 
reached  the  Inner  Circle,  the  Sphere  of  Rest,  the  line  of 
gravity,  and  now  our  bodies  have  no  weight ;  at  this  point 
we  begin  to  move  with  decreased  speed,  we  shall  eventu- 
ally come  to  a  quiescent  condition,  a  state  of  rest,  and 
then  start  back  on  our  rebound." 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 

HEARING    WITHOUT    EARS. — "VVHAT    WILL    BE    THE    END?" 

A  FLOOD  of  recollections  came  over  me,  a  vivid  re- 
membrance of  my  earth-learned  school  philosophy.  "I 
rebel  again,"  I  said,  "I  deny  your  statements.  We  can 
neither  be  moving,  nor  can  we  be  out  of  the  atmosphere. 
Fool  that  I  have  been  not  to  have  sooner  and  better  used 
my  reasoning  faculties,  not  to  have  at  once  rejected  your 
statements  concerning  the  disappearance  of  the  atmos- 
phere." 

"I  await  your  argument." 

"Am  I  not  speaking?  Is  other  argument  necessary? 
Have  I  not  heard  your  voice,  and  that,  too,  since  you 
asserted  that  we  had  left  the  atmosphere?" 

"Continue." 

"Have  not  men  demonstrated,  and  is  it  not  accepted  be- 
yond the  shadow  of  a  doubt,  that  sound  is  produced  by 
vibrations  of  the  air?" 

"You  speak  truly ;  as  men  converse  on  surface  earth." 

"This  medium — the  air — in  wave  vibrations,  strikes 
upon  the  drum  of  the  ear,  and  thus  impresses  the  brain," 
I  continued. 

"I  agree  that  such  are  the  teachings  of  your  philoso- 
phy ;  go  on." 

"It  is  unnecessary ;  you  admit  the  facts,  and  the  facts 
refute  you ;  there  must  be  an  atmosphere  to  convey 
sound." 

"Cannot  you  understand  that  you  are  not  now  on  the 
surface  of  the  earth?  Will  you  never  learn  that  the  phi- 
losophy of  your  former  life  is  not  philosophy  here  ?  That 
earth-bound  science  is  science  only  with  surface-earth 
men?    Here,  that  science  is  a  fallacy.    All  that  you  have 


2  26  Etidorhpa 

said  is  true  of  surface  earth,  but  your  argument  is  invalid 
where  every  condition  is  different  from  the  conditions 
that  prevail  thereon.  You  use  the  organs  of  speech  in  ad- 
dressing me  as  you  once  learned  to  use  them,  but  such 
physical  efforts  are  unnecessary  to  convey  sense-im- 
pressions in  this  condition  of  rest  and  complacency,  and 
you  waste  energy  in  employing  them.  You  assert  and 
believe  that  the  air  conveys  sound ;  you  have  been  taught 
such  theories  in  support  of  a  restricted  philosophy ;  but 
may  I  ask  you  if  a  bar  of  iron,  a  stick  of  wood,  a  stream 
of  water,  indeed,  any  substance  known  to  you  placed 
against  the  ear  will  not  do  the  same,  and  many  sub- 
stances even  better  than  the  atmosphere?" 

"This  I  admit." 

"Will  you  tell  me  how  the  vibration  of  any  of  these 
bodies  impresses  the  seat  of  hearing?" 

"It  moves  the  atmosphere  which  strikes  upon  the 
tympanum  of  the  ear." 

"You  have  not  explained  the  phenomenon ;  how  does 
that  tympanic  membrane  communicate  with  the  brain?" 

"By  vibrations,  I  understand,"  I  answered,  and  then  I 
began  to  feel  that  this  assertion  was  a  simple  statement, 
and  not  sufficient  to  explain  how  matter  acts  upon  mind, 
whatever  mind  may  be,  and  I  hesitated. 

"Pray  do  not  stop,"  he  said ;  "how  is  it  that  a  delicate 
vibrating  film  of  animal  membrane  can  receive  and  con- 
vey sound  to  a  pulpy  organic  mass  that  is  destitute  of 
elasticity,  and  which  consists  mostly  of  water,  for  the 
brain  is  such  in  structure,  and  vibrations  like  those  you 
mention  cannot,  by  your  own  theory,  pass  through  it  as 
vibrations  through  a  sonorous  material,  or  even  reach 
from  the  tympanum  of  the  ear  to  the  nearest  convolution 
of  the  brain." 

"I  cannot  explain  this,  I  admit."  was  my  reply. 

"Pass  that  feature,  then,  and  concede  that  this  tym- 
panic membrane  is  capable  of  materially  affecting  brain 
tissue  by  its  tiny  vibrations,  how  can  that  slimy,  pulpy 
formation,  mostly  made  up  of  water,  communicate  with 


Hearing  Without  Ears  227 

the  soul  of  man,  for  you  do  not  claim,  I  hope,  that  brain 
material  is  either  mind,  conscience,  or  soul  ?" 

I  confessed  my  inability  to  answer  or  even  to  theorize 
on  the  subject,  and  recognizing  my  humiliation,  I  begged 
him  to  open  the  door  to  such  knowledge. 

"The  vibration  of  the  atmosphere  is  necessary  to  man, 
as  earthy  man  is  situated,"  he  said.  "The  coarser  at- 
tributes known  as  matter  formations  are  the  crudities  of 
Nature,  dust  swept  from  space.  Man's  organism  is  made 
up  of  the  roughest  and  lowest  kind  of  space  materials ; 
he  is  surrounded  by  a  turbulent  medium,  the  air,  and 
these  various  conditions  obscure  or  destroy  the  finer  at- 
tributes of  his  ethereal  nature,  and  prevent  a  higher 
spiritual  evolution.  His  spiritual  self  is  enveloped  in 
earth,  and  everywhere  thwarted  by  earthy  materials.  He 
is  insensible  to  the  finer  influences  of  surrounding  media 
by  reason  of  the  overwhelming  necessity  of  a  war  for 
existence  with  the  grossly  antagonistic  materialistic  con- 
fusion that  everywhere  confronts,  surrounds,  and  per- 
vades him.  Such  a  conflict  with  extraneous  matter  is 
necessary  in  order  that  he  may  retain  his  earthy  being, 
for,  to  remain  a  living  mortal,  he  must  work  to  keep  body 
and  soul  together.  His  organs  of  communication  and 
perception  are  of  'earth,  earthy ;'  his  nature  is  cast  in  a 
mould  of  clay,  and  the  blood  within  him  gurgles  and 
struggles  in  his  brain,  a  whirlpool  of  madly  rushing  liquid 
substances,  creating  disorder  in  the  primal  realms  of  con- 
sciousness. He  is  ignorant  of  this  inward  turmoil 
because  he  has  never  been  without  it,  as  ignorant  as  he 
is  of  the  rank  odors  of  the  gases  of  the  atmosphere  that 
he  has  always  breathed,  and  cannot  perceive  because  of 
the  benumbed  olfactory  nerves.  Thus  it  is  that  all  his 
subtler  senses  are  inevitably  blunted  and  perverted,  and 
his  vulgar  nature  preponderates.  The  rich  essential  part 
of  his  own  self  is  unknown,  even  to  himself.  The  pos- 
sibility of  delight  and  pleasure  in  an  acquaintance  with 
the  finer  attributes  of  his  own  soul  is  clouded  by  this 
shrouding  materialistic  presence  that  has,  through  count- 


228  Etidorhpa 

less  generations,  become  a  part  of  man,  and  he  even  de- 
rives most  of  his  mental  pleasures  from  such  acts  as  tend 
to  encourage  the  animal  passions.  Thus  it  follows  that 
the  sensitive,  highly  developed,  extremely  attenuated 
part  of  his  inner  being  has  become  subservient  to  the 
grosser  elements.  The  baser  part  of  his  nature  has  be- 
come dominant.  He  remains  insensible  to  impressions 
from  the  highly  developed  surrounding  media  which, 
incapable  of  reaching  his  inner  organism  other  than 
through  mechanical  agencies,  are  powerless  to  impress 
him.  Alas,  only  the  coarser  conditions  of  celestial 
phenomena  can  affect  him,  and  the  finer  expressions  of 
the  universe  of  life  and  force  are  lost  to  his  spiritual  ap- 
prehension." 

"Would  you  have  me  view  the  soul  of  man  as  I  would 
a  material  being?" 

"Surely,"  he  answered;  "it  exists  practically  as  does 
the  more  gross  forms  of  matter,  and  in  exact  accord  with 
God's  natural  laws.  Associated  with  lower  forms  of 
matter,  the  soul  of  man  is  a  temporary  slave  to  the  en- 
veloping substance.  The  ear  of  man  as  now  constituted 
can  hear  only  by  means  of  vibrations  of  such  media  as 
conduct  vibrations  in  matter — for  example,  the  air ;  but 
were  man  to  be  deprived  of  the  organs  of  hearing,  and 
then  exist  for  generations  subject  to  evolutions  from 
within,  whereby  the  acuteness  of  the  spirit  would  become 
intensified,  or  permitted  to  perform  its  true  function,  he 
would  learn  to  communicate  soul  to  soul,  not  only  with 
mankind,  but  with  celestial  beings  that  surround,  and  are 
now  unknown  to  him.  This  he  would  accomplish 
through  a  medium  of  communication  that  requires  neither 
ear  nor  tongue.  To  an  extent  your  present  condition  is 
what  men  call  supernatural,  although  in  reality  you  have 
been  divested  of  only  a  part  of  your  former  material 
grossness,  which  object  has  been  accomplished  under  per- 
fectly natural  conditions ;  your  mind  no  longer  requires 
the  material  medium  by  which  to  converse  with  the 
spiritual.     We  are  conversing  now  by  thought  contact, 


Hearing  Without  Ears  229 

there  is  no  atmosphere  here,  your  tongue  moves  merely 
from  habit,  and  not  from  necessity.  I  am  reading  your 
mind  as  you  in  turn  are  mine,  neither  of  us  is  speaking 
as  you  were  accustomed  to  speak." 

"I  cannot  accept  that  assertion,"  I  said;  "it  is  to  me 
impossible  to  realize  the  existence  of  such  conditions." 

"As  it  is  for  any  man  to  explain  any  phenomenon  in 
life,"  he  said.  "Do  you  not  remember  that  you  ceased  to 
respire,  and  were  not  conscious  of  the  fact?" 

"Yes." 

"That  your  heart  had  stopped  beating,  your  blood  no 
longer  circulated,  while  you  were  in  ignorance  of  the 
change  ?" 

"That  is  also  true." 

"Now  I  will  prove  my  last  assertion.  Close  your 
mouth,  and  think  of  a  question  you  wish  to  propound." 

I  did  so,  and  to  my  perfect  understanding  and  com- 
prehension he  answered  me  with  closed  mouth. 

"What  will  be  the  end?"  I  exclaimed,  or  thought  aloud. 
"I  am  possessed  of  nearly  all  the  attributes  that  I  once 
supposed  inherent  only  in  a  corpse,  yet  I  live,  I  see  clearly, 
I  hear  plainly,  I  have  a  quickened  being,  and  a  mental 
perception  intensified  and  exquisite.  Why  and  how  has 
this  been  accomplished  ?  What  will  be  the  result  of  this 
eventful  journey?" 

"Restful,  you  should  say,"  he  remarked;  "the  present 
is  restful,  the  end  will  be  peace. 


C    D 


L 

M 


DESCRIPTION    OF    JOURNEY    FROM    K.     [KENTUCKY]     TO    P. 
OF   EARTH." 


A,  B,  Diameter  of  earth,  8,000  miles. 
A,  D,  Thickness   of   earth   crust,   800 

miles. 
C,  D,  Distance  from  inner  earth  crust 

to  energy  sphere,   100  miles. 
E,  Underground  lake. 
E,  F,  Distance   from   surface   of   lake 

to  earth's  surface. 
G,  Inner   Circle   (the  Unknown    Coun- 

tr>-). 
H,  Middle  Circle   (Sphere   of   Energy, 

or  Circle  of  Rest). 
L  to  M,  Height    of    atmosphere,    200 
miles. 


K,  Entrance  to  cavern  in  Kentucky. 

L,  Outer  circle,  earth's  surface. 

Mt.   E,  Mount  Epomeo  in  Italy. 

X,  North   Pole. 

O,  Rock  shelf  from  which  the  leap 
was  made  into  the  intra- 
earth  space. 

P,  Junction  of  earth  crust  witli 
Circle  of  Rest.  Point  where 
I-Am-The-Man  stepped  "  on- 
ward and  upward"  in  "  The 
Unknown  Country." 

S,   South  Pole. 


CHAPTER   XL. 

OSCILLATING     THROUGH     SPACE. — EARTH's     SHELL     ABOVE 

ME. 

Continued  my  companion : 

"We  have  just  now  crossed  the  line  of  gravitation. 
We  were  drawn  downward  until  at  a  certain  point,  to 
which  I  called  your  attention  at  the  time,  we  recently 
crossed  the  curved  plane  of  perfect  rest,  where  gravity 
ceases,  and  by  our  momentum  are  now  passing  beyond 
that  plane,  and  are  now  pressing  against  the  bond  of 
gravitation  again.  This  shell  in  which  gravity  centres 
is  concentric  with  that  of  the  earth's  exterior,  and  is 
about  seven  hundred  miles  below  its  surface.  Each 
moment  of  time  will  now  behold  us  carried  farther  from 
this  sphere  of  attraction,  and  thus  the  increasing  distance 
increases  the  force  of  the  restraining  influence.  Our 
momentum  is  thus  retarded,  and  consequently  the 
rapidity  of  our  motion  is  continually  decreasing.  At  last 
when  the  forces  of  gravitation  and  mass  motion  neutral- 
ize each  other,  we  shall  come  to  a  state  of  rest  again. 
When  our  motion  in  that  direction  ceases,  however, 
gravitation,  imperishable,  continues  to  exert  its  equal- 
izing influence,  the  result  being  a  start  in  the  opposite  di- 
rection, and  we  will  then  reverse  our  course,  and  retrace 
our  path,  crossing  again  the  central  band  of  attraction,  to 
retreat  and  fly  back  into  the  expanse  from  which  we  came, 
and  which  is  now  above  us." 

"Can  this  oscillation  ever  end?  Are  we  to  remain  thus, 
as  an  unceasing  pendulum,  traversing  space,  to  and  fro 
across  this  invisible  shell  of  attraction  from  now  until  the 
end  of  time?" 

"No ;  there  are  influences  to  prevent  such  an  ex- 
perience ;  one  being  the  friction  of  the  attenuated  atmos- 


232  Etidorhpa 

phere  into  which  we  plunge  each  time  that  we  cross  the 
point  of  greater  gravity,  and  approach  the  crust  of  the 
earth.  Thus  each  succeeding  vibration  is  in  shorter  Unes, 
and  at  last  we  shall  come  to  a  state  of  perfect  rest  at  the 
centre  of  gravity." 

"I  can  only  acquiesce  in  meek  submission,  powerless 
even  to  argue,  for  I  perceive  that  the  foundations  for  my 
arguments  must  be  based  on  those  observed  conditions 
of  natural  laws  formerly  known  to  me,  and  that  do  not 
encompass  us  here ;  I  accept,  therefore,  your  statements 
as  I  have  several  times  heretofore,  because  I  cannot  refute 
them.  I  must  close  my  eyes  to  the  future,  and  accept  it 
on  faith ;  I  cease  to  mourn  the  past,  I  cannot  presage  the 
end." 

"Well  spoken,"  he  replied ;  "and  while  we  are  under- 
going this  necessary  delay,  this  oscillating  motion,  to 
which  we  must  both  submit  before  we  can  again  continue 
our  journey,  I  will  describe  some  conditions  inherent  in 
the  three  spheres  of  which  the  rind  of  the  earth  is  com- 
posed, for  I  believe  that  you  are  now  ready  to  receive  and 
profit  by  facts  that  heretofore  you  would  have  rejected  in 
incredulity. 

"The  outer  circle,  coat,  or  contour,  of  which  you  have 
heard  others  beside  myself  speak,  is  the  surface  crust 
of  our  globe,  the  great  sphere  of  land  and  water  on  which 
man  is  at  present  an  inhabitant.  This  is  the  exposed  part 
of  the  earth,  and  is  least  desirable  as  a  residence.  It  is 
affected  by  grievous  atmospheric  changes,  and  restless 
physical  conditions,  such  as  men,  in  order  to  exist  in, 
must  fortify  against  at  the  expense  of  much  bodily  and 
mental  energy^  which  leads  them,  necessarily,  to  en- 
courage the  animal  at  the  expense  of  the  ethereal.  The 
unmodified  rays  of  the  sun  produce  aerial  convulsions 
that  are  marked  by  thermal  contrasts,  and  other  meteoro- 
logical variations,  during  which  the  heat  of  summer  and 
the  cold  of  winter  follow  each  other  periodically  and  un- 
ceasingly. These  successive  solar  pulsations  generate 
winds,  calms,  and  storms,  and  in  order  to  protect  himself 


Oscillating  Through  Space  233 

against  such  exposures  and  changes  in  material  surround- 
ings, man  toils,  suffers,  and  comes  to  believe  that  the 
doom,  if  not  the  object,  of  life  on  earth  is  the  preservation 
of  the  earthy  body.  All  conditions  and  phases  of  Nature 
on  this  outer  crust  are  in  an  angry  struggle,  and  this 
commotion  envelops  the  wretched  home,  and  governs  the 
life  of  man.  The  surrounding  cyclones  of  force  and 
matter  have  distorted  the  peaceful  side  of  what  human 
nature  might  otherwise  be  until  the  shortened  life  of  man 
has  become  a  passionate,  deplorable,  sorrowful  struggle 
for  physical  existence,  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  Of 
these  facts  man  is  practically  ignorant,  although  each  in- 
dividual is  aware  he  is  not  satisfied  with  his  condition. 
If  his  afflictions  were  obvious  to  himself,  his  existence 
would  be  typical  of  a  life  of  desolation  and  anguish.  You 
know  full  well  that  the  condition  of  the  outer  sphere  is, 
as  I  have  described  it,  a  bleak,  turbulent  surface,  the  roof 
of  the  earth  on  which  man  exists,  as  a  creeping  parasite 
does  on  a  rind  of  fruit,  exposed  to  the  fury  of  the  ever- 
present  earth  storms. 

"The  central  circle,  or  medial  sphere,  the  shell,  or  layer 
of  gravitation,  lies  conformable  to  the  outer  configuration 
of  the  globe,  about  seven  hundred  miles  towards  its  cen- 
tre. It  stretches  beneath  the  outer  circle  (sphere)  as  a 
transparent  sheet,  a  shell  of  energy,  the  centre  of  gravita- 
tion. The  material  crust  of  the  earth  rests  on  this  placid 
sphere  of  vigor,  excepting  in  a  few  places,  where,  as  in 
the  crevice  we  have  entered,  gaps,  or  crevices,  in  matter 
exist,  beginning  from  near  the  outer  surface  and  extend- 
tending  diagonally  through  the  medial  and  inner  spheres 
into  the  intra-earth  space  beyond.  This  medial  sphere 
is  a  form  of  pure  force,  a  disturbance  of  motion,  and  al- 
though without  weight  it  induces,  or  conserves,  gravity. 
It  is  invisible  to  mortal  eyes,  and  is  frictionless,  but  really 
is  the  bone  of  the  earth.  On  it  matter,  the  retarded 
energy  of  space,  space  dust,  has  arranged  itself  as  dust 
collects  on  a  bubble  of  water.  This  we  call  matter.  The 
material  portion  of  the  earth  is  altogether  a  surface  film. 


234  Etidorhpa 

an  insignificant  skin  over  the  sphere  of  purity,  the  circle 
of  gravitation.  Although  men  naturally  imagine  that  the 
density  and  stability  of  the  earth  are  dependent  on  the 
earthy  particles,  of  which  his  own  body  is  a  part,  such 
is  not  the  case.  Earth,  as  man  upon  the  outer  surface  can 
now  know  it,  is  an  aggregation  of  material  particles,  a 
shell  resting  on  this  globular  sphere  of  medial  force, 
which  attracts  solid  matter  from  both  the  outer  and  inner 
surfaces,  forming  thereby  the  middle  of  the  three  con- 
centric spheres.  This  middle  sphere  is  the  reverse  of  the 
outer,  or  surface,  layer  in  one  respect,  for,  while  it  at- 
tracts solids,  gases  are  repelled  by  it,  and  thus  the  atmos- 
phere becomes  less  dense  as  we  descend  from  the  outer 
surface  of  the  earth.  The  greater  degree  of  attraction 
for  gases  belongs,  therefore,  to  the  earth's  exterior  sur- 
face." 

"Exactly  at  the  earth's  exterior  surface?"  I  asked. 

"Practically  so.  The  greatest  density  of  the  air  is 
found  a  few  miles  below  the  surface  of  the  ocean ;  the  air 
becomes  more  attenuated  as  we  proceed  in  either  direc- 
tion from  that  point.  Were  this  not  the  case,  the  atmos- 
phere that  surrounds  the  earth  would  be  quickly  absorbed 
into  its  substance,  or  expand  into  space  and  disappear." 

"Scientific  men  claim  that  the  atmosphere  is  forty-five 
geographical  miles  in  depth  over  the  earth's  surface,"  I 
said. 

"If  the  earth  is  eight  thousand  miles  in  diameter,  how 
long  would  such  an  atmosphere,  a  skin  only,  over  a  great 
ball,  resist  such  attraction,  and  remain  above  the  globe? 
Were  it  really  attracted  toward  its  centre  it  would  disap- 
pear as  a  film  of  water  sinks  into  a  sponge." 

"Do  you  know,"  I  interrupted,  "that  if  these  statements 
were  made  to  men  they  would  not  be  credited  ?  Scientific 
men  have  calculated  the  weights  of  the  planets,  and  have 
estimated  therefrom  the  density  of  the  earth,  showing  it 
to  be  solid,  and  knowing  its  density,  they  would,  on  this 
consideration  alone,  discredit  your  story  concerning  the 
earth  shell." 


Oscillating  Through  Space  235 

"You  mistake,  as  you  will  presently  see.  It  is  true  that 
man's  ingenuity  has  enabled  him  to  ascertain  the  weights 
and  densities  of  the  planets,  but  do  you  mean  to  say  that 
these  scientific  results  preclude  the  possibility  of  a  hollow 
interior  of  the  heavenly  bodies?" 

"I  confess,  I  do." 

"You  should  know  then,  that  what  men  define  as 
density  of  the  earth  is  but  an  average  value,  which  is 


THE    EARTH    AND    ITS    ATMOSPHERE. 

The  space  between  the  inner  and  the  outer  lines 
represents  the  atmosphere  upon  the  earth.  The  depth 
to  which  man  has  penetrated  the  earth  is  less  than  the 
thickness  of  either  line,  as  compared  with  the  diameter 
of  the  inner  circle. 

much  higher  than  that  exhibited  by  materials  in  the  sur- 
face layers  of  the  earth  crust,  such  as  come  within  the 
scrutiny  of  man.  This  fact  allows  mortals  of  upper  earth 
but  a  vague  conjecture  as  to  the  nature  of  the  seemingly 
much  heavier  substances  that  exist  in  the  interior  of  the 
€arth.    Have  men  any  data  on  hand  to  show  exactly  how 


236  Etidorhpa 

matter  is  distributed  below  the  limited  zone  that  is  ac- 
cessible to  their  investigations?" 

"I  think  not." 

"You  may  safely  accept,  then,  that  the  earth  shell  I 
have  described  to  you  embraces  in  a  compact  form  the 
total  weight  of  the  earth.  Even  though  men  take  for 
granted  that  matter  fills  out  the  whole  interior  of  our 
planet,  such  material  would  not,  if  distributed  as  on 
earth's  surface,  give  the  earth  the  density  he  has  deter- 
mined for  it." 

"I  must  acquiesce  in  your  explanations." 

"Let  us  now  go  a  step  further  in  this  argument.  What 
do  you  imagine  is  the  nature  of  those  heavier  substances 
whose  existence  deep  within  the  earth  is  suggested  by  the 
exceedingly  high  total  density  observed  by  man  on  upper 
earth?" 

"I  am  unable  to  explain,  especially  as  the  materials  sur- 
rounding us  here,  seemingly,  do  not  differ  much  from 
those  with  which  my  former  life  experience  has  made  me 
acquainted." 

"Your  observation  is  correct,  there  is  no  essential  dif- 
ference in  this  regard.  But  as  we  are  descending  into  the 
interior  of  this  globe,  and  are  approaching  the  central 
seat  of  the  shell  of  energy,  the  opposing  force  into  which 
we  plunge  becomes  correspondingly  stronger,  and  as  a 
consequence,  matter  pressed  within  it  becomes  really 
lighter.  Your  own  experience  about  your  weight 
gradually  disappearing  during  this  journey  should  con- 
vince you  of  the  correctness  of  this  fact." 

"Indeed,  it  does,"  I  admitted. 

"You  will  then  readily  understand  that  the  heavy 
material  to  which  surface-bred  mortals  allude  as  prob- 
ably constituting  the  interior  of  the  earth,  is,  in  fact, 
nothing  but  the  manifestation  of  a  matter-supporting 
force,  as  exemplified  in  the  sphere  of  attractive  energy, 
the  seat  of  which  we  are  soon  to  encounter  on  our 
journey.  Likewise  the  mutual  attraction  of  the  heavenly 
bodies  is  not  a  property  solely  of  their  material  part,  but 


Oscillating  Through  Space  237 

an  expression  in  which  both  the  force-spheres  and  the 
matter  collected  thereon  take  part. 

"Tell  me  more  of  the  sphere  in  which  gravitation  is  in- 
tensest." 

"Of  that  you  are  yet  to  judge,"  he  replied.  "When 
we  come  to  a  state  of  rest  in  the  stratum  of  greater 
gravity,  we  will  then  traverse  this  crevice  in  the  sheet  of 
energy  until  we  reach  the  edge  of  the  earth  crust,  after 
which  we  will  ascend  toward  the  interior  of  the  earth, 
until  we  reach  the  inner  crust,  which  is,  as  before  ex- 
plained, a  surface  of  matter  that  lies  conformable  with 
the  external  crust  of  the  earth,  and  which  is  the  interior 
surface  of  the  solid  part  of  the  earth.  There  is  a  concave 
world  beneath  the  outer  convex  world." 

*T  cannot  comprehend  you.  You  speak  of  continuing 
our  journey  toward  the  centre  of  the  earth,  and  at  the 
same  time  you  say  that  after  leaving  the  Median  Circle 
we  shall  then  ascend,  which  seems  contradictory." 

'T  have  endeavored  to  show  you  that  matter  is  resting 
in  or  on  a  central  sphere  of  energy,  which  attracts  solid 
bodies  toward  its  central  plane.  From  this  fundamental 
and  permanent  seat  of  gravity  we  may  regard  our  prog- 
ress as  up-hill,  whether  we  proceed  toward  the  hollow 
centre  or  toward  the  outer  surface  of  the  globe.  If  a 
stick  weighted  on  one  end  is  floated  upright  in  water,  an 
insect  on  the  top  of  the  stick  above  the  water  will  fall  to 
the  surface  of  the  liquid,  and  yet  the  same  insect  will  rise 
to  the  surface  of  the  water  if  liberated  beneath  the  water 
at  the  bottom  of  the  stick.  This  comparison  is  not  pre- 
cisely applicable  to  our  present  position,  for  there  is  no 
change  in  medium  here,  but  it  may  serve  as  an  aid  to 
thought  and  may  indicate  to  you  that  which  I  wish  to 
convey  when  I  say  'we  ascend'  in  both  directions  as  we 
pull  against  Gravity.  The  terms  up  and  down  are  not 
absolute,  but  relative." 

Thus  we  continued  an  undefined  period  in  mind  con- 
versation ;  and  of  the  information  gained  in  my  ex- 
perience of  that  delightful  condition  I  have  the  privilege 


238  Etidorhpa 

now  to  record  but  a  small  portion,  and  even  this  statement 
of  facts  appears,  as  I  glance  backward  into  my  human 
existence,  as  if  it  may  seem  to  others  to  border  on  the  in- 
credible. During  all  that  time — I  know  not  how  long  the 
period  may  have  been — we  were  alternately  passing  and 
repassing  through  the  partition  of  division  (the  sphere 
of  gravity)  that  separated  the  inner  from  the  outer  sub- 
stantial crust  of  earth.  With  each  vibration  our  line  of 
travel  became  shorter  and  shorter,  like  the  decreasing- 
oscillations  of  a  pendulum,  and  at  last  I  could  no  longer 
perceive  the  rushing  motion  of  a  medium  like  the  air. 
Finally  my  guide  said  that  we  were  at  perfect  rest  at  a. 
point  in  that  mysterious  medial  sphere  which,  at  a  dis- 
tance of  about  seven  hundred  miles  below  the  level  of 
the  sea,  concentrates  in  its  encompassing  curvature  the 
mighty  power  of  gravitation.  We  were  fixed  seven  hun- 
dred miles  from  the  outer  surface  of  the  globe,  but  more 
than  three  thousand  from  the  centre. 


CHAPTER   XLI. 

MY     WEIGHT     ANNIHILATED. ''tELL     Me/'     I     CRIED     IN 

ALARM,   "is  this  TO  BE  A  LIVING  TOMB?" 

"If  you  will  reflect  upon  the  condition  we  are  now  in, 
you  will  perceive  that  it  must  be  one  of  unusual  scientific 
interest.  If  you  imagine  a  body  at  rest,  in  an  intangible 
medium,  and  not  in  contact  with  a  gas  or  any  substance 
capable  of  creating  friction,  that  body  by  the  prevailing 
theory  of  matter  and  motion,  unless  disturbed  by  an  im- 
pulse from  without,  would  remain  forever  at  absolute 
rest.  We  now  occupy  such  a  position.  In  whatever  direc- 
tion we  may  now  be  situated,  it  seems  to  us  that  we  are 
upright.  We  are  absolutely  without  weight  and  in  a 
perfectly  frictionless  medium.  Should  an  inanimate  body 
begin  to  revolve  here,  it  would  continue  that  motion  for- 
ever. If  our  equilibrium  should  now  be  disturbed,  and 
we  should  begin  to  move  in  a  direction  coinciding  with 
the  plane  in  which  we  are  at  rest,  we  would  continue  mov- 
ing with  the  same  rapidity  in  that  direction  until  our 
course  was  arrested  by  some  opposing  object.  We  are 
not  subject  to  attraction  of  matter,  for  at  this  place  gravi- 
tation robs  matter  of  its  gravity,  and  has  no  influence  on 
extraneous  substances.  We  are  now  in  the  centre  of 
gravitation,  the  'Sphere  of  Rest.'  " 

"Let  me  think  it  out,"  I  replied,  and  reasoning  from 
his  remarks,  I  mentally  followed  the  chain  to  its  sequence, 
and  was  startled  as  suddenly  it  dawned  upon  me  that  if 
his  argument  was  true  we  must  remain  motionless  in  this 
spot  until  death  (could  beings  in  conditions  like  ourselves 
die  beyond  the  death  we  had  already  achieved)  or  the  end 
of  time.  We  were  at  perfect  rest,  in  absolute  vacancy, 
there  being,  as  I  now  accepted  without  reserve,  neither 


240  Etidorhpa 

gas,  liquid,  nor  solid  that  we  could  employ  as  a  lever  to 
start  us  into  motion.  "Tell  me,"  I  cried  in  alarm,  "is 
this  to  be  a  living  tomb?  Are  we  to  remain  suspended 
here  forever,  and  if  not,  by  what  method  can  we  hope  to 
extricate  ourselves  from  this  state  of  perfect  quiescence?" 
He  again  took  the  bar  of  iron  from  my  hand,  and  cau- 
tiously gave  it  a  whirling  motion,  releasing  it  as  he  did  so. 
It  revolved  silently  and  rapidly  in  space  without  support 
or  pivot. 

"So  it  would  continue,"  he  remarked,  "until  the  end  of 
time,  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  I  could  not  possibly 
release  it  in  a  condition  of  absolute  horizontal  rest. 
There  is  a  slight,  slow,  lateral  motion  that  will  carry  the 
object  parallel  with  this  sheet  of  energy  to  the  material 
side  of  this  crevice,  when  its  motion  will  'be  arrested  by 
the  earth  it  strikes.'  " 

"That  I  can  understand,"  I  replied,  and  then  a  ray  of 
light  broke  upon  me.  "Had  not  Cavendish  demonstrated 
that,  when  a  small  ball  of  lead  is  suspended  on  a  film  of 
silk,  near  a  mass  of  iron  or  lead,  it  is  drawn  toward  the 
greater  body  ?  We  shall  be  drawn  by  gravity  to  the  near- 
est clifif,"  I  cried. 

"You  mistake,"  he  answered ;  "Cavendish  performed 
his  experiments  on  the  surface  of  the  earth,  and  there 
gravity  is  always  ready  to  start  an  object  into  motion. 
Here  objects  have  no  weight,  and  neither  attract  nor  repel 
each  other.  The  force  of  cohesion  holds  together  sub- 
stances that  are  in  contact,  but  as  gravitation  cannot  now 
aflfect  matter  out  of  molecular  contact  with  other  forms 
of  matter,  because  of  the  equilibrium  of  all  objects,  so  it 
may  be  likewise  said  that  bodies  out  of  contact  have  at 
this  point  no  attraction  for  one  another.  If  they  pos- 
sessed this  attribute,  long  ago  we  would  have  been  drawn 
toward  the  earth  clifif  with  inconceivable  velocity.  How- 
ever, if  by  any  method  our  bodies  should  receive  an  im- 
pulse sufficient  to  start  them  into  motion,  ever  so  gently 
though  it  be,  we  in  like  manner  would  continue  to  move 
in   this   frictionless   medium — until" — 


My  Weight  Annihilated  241 

"We  would  strike  the  material  boundary  of  this 
crevice,"  I  interrupted. 

"Yes ;  but  can  you  conceive  of  any  method  by  which 
such  voluntary  motion  can  now  be  acquired?" 

"No." 

"Does  it  not  seem  to  you,"  he  continued,  "that  when 
skilful  mechanics  on  the  earth's  surface  are  able  to  ad- 
just balances  so  delicately  that  in  the  face  of  friction  of 
metal,  friction  of  air,  inertia  of  mass,  the  thousandth  part 
of  a  grain  can  produce  motion  of  the  great  beams  and 
pans  of  such  balances,  we,  in  this  location,  where  there 
is  no  friction  and  no  opposing  medium — none  at  all — 
should  be  able  to  induce  mass  motion?" 

"I  cannot  imagine  how  it  is  possible,  unless  we  shove 
each  other  apart.  There  is  no  other  object  to  push 
against — but  why  do  you  continue  to  hold  me  so  tightly?" 
I  interrupted  myself  to  ask,  for  he  was  clasping  me  firmly 
again. 

"In  order  that  you  may  not  leave  me,"  he  replied. 

"Come,  you  trifle,"  I  said,  somewhat  irritated ;  "you 
have  just  argued  that  we  are  immovably  suspended  in  a 
frictionless  medium,  and  fixed  in  our  present  position ; 
you  ask  me  to  suggest  some  method  by  which  we  can 
create  motion,  and  I  fail  to  devise  it,  and  almost  in  the 
same  sentence  you  say  that  you  fear  that  I  will  leave  you. 
Cease  your  incongruities,  and  advise  with  me  rationally." 

"Where  is  the  bar  of  iron?"    he  asked. 

I  turned  toward  its  former  location  ;  it  had  disappeared. 

"Have  you  not  occasionally  felt,"  he  asked,  "that  in 
your  former  life  your  mind  was  a  slave  in  an  earthly 
prison?  Have  you  never,  especially  in  your  dreams,  ex- 
perienced a  sensation  of  mental  confinement?" 

"Yes." 

"Know  then,"  he  replied,  "that  there  is  a  connection 
between  the  mind  and  the  body  of  mortal  beings,  in  which 
matter  confines  mind,  and  yet  mind  governs  matter. 
How  else  could  the  will  of  men  and  animals  impart 
voluntary  motion  to  earthy  bodies  ?    With  beings  situated 


242  Etidorhpa 

as  are  the  animals  on  the  surface  of  the  earth,  mind  alone 
cannot  overcome  the  friction  of  matter.  A  person  could 
suspend  himself  accurately  on  a  string,  or  balance  him- 
self on  a  pivot,  and  wish  with  the  entire  force  of  his  mind 
that  his  body  would  revolve,  and  still  he  would  remain 
at  perfect  rest." 

"Certainly.  A  man  would  be  considered  crazy  who  at- 
tempted it,"  I  answered. 

"Notwithstanding  your  opinion,  in  time  to  come 
human  beings  on  the  surface  of  the  earth  will  investigate 
in  this  very  direction,"  he  replied,  "and  in  the  proper  time 
mental  evolution  will,  by  experimentation,  prove  the  fact 
of  this  mind  and  matter  connection,  and  demonstrate  that 
even  extraneous  matter  may  be  made  subservient  to  mind 
influences.  On  earth,  mind  acts  on  the  matter  of  one's 
body  to  produce  motion  of  matter,  and  the  spirit  within, 
which  is  a  slave  to  matter,  moves  with  it.  Contraries  rule 
here.  Mind  force  acts  on  pure  space  motion,  moving  it- 
self and  matter  with  it,  and  that,  too,  without  any  exertion 
of  the  material  body,  which  now  is  a  nonentity,  mind  here 
being  the  master." 

"How  can  I  believe  you?"  I  replied. 

"Know,  then,"  he  said,  "that  we  are  in  motion  now, 
propelled  bv  my  will  power." 

"Prove  it." 

"You  may  prove  it  yourself,"  he  said ;  "but  be  careful, 
or  we  shall  separate  forever." 

Releasing  his  grasp,  he  directed  me  to  wish  that  I  were 
moving  directly  to  the  right.  I  did  so ;  the  distance 
widened  between  us. 

"Wish  intensely  that  you  would  move  in  a  circle  about 
me. 

I  acquiesced,  and  at  once  my  body  began  to  circle 
around  him. 

"Call  for  the  bar  of  iron." 

I  did  as  directed,  and  soon  it  came  floating  out  of  space 
into  my  very  hand. 


My  Weight  Annihilated  243 

"I  am  amazed,"  I  ejaculated;  "yes,  more  surprised  at 
these  phenomena  than  at  anything  that  has  preceded." 

"You  need  not  be ;  you  move  now  under  the  influences 
of  natural  laws  that  are  no  more  obscure  or  wonderful 
than  those  under  which  you  have  always  existed.  In- 
stead of  exercising  its  influence  on  a  brain,  and  thence  in- 
directly on  a  material  body,  your  mind  force  is  exerting 
its  action  through  energy  on  matter  itself.  Matter  is  here 
subservient.  It  is  nearly  the  same  as  vacuity,  mind  being 
a  comprehensive  reality.  The  positions  we  have  hereto- 
fore occupied  have  been  reversed,  and  mind  now 
dominates.  Know,  that  as  your  body  is  now  absolutely 
without  weight,  and  is  suspended  in  a  frictionless 
medium,  the  most  delicate  balance  of  a  chemist  cannot 
approach  in  sensitiveness  the  adjustment  herein  ex- 
emplified. Your  body  does  not  weigh  the  fraction  of  the 
millionth  part  of  a  grain,  and  where  there  is  neither 
material  weight  nor  possible  friction,  even  the  attrition 
that  on  surface  earth  results  from  a  needle  point  that  rests 
on  an  agate  plate  is  immeasurably  greater  in  comparison. 
Pure  mind  energy  is  capable  of  disturbing  the  equilibrium 
of  matter  in  our-situation ;  as  you  have  seen  exemplified 
by  our  movements  and  extraneous  materials,  'dead  mat- 
ter' obeys  the  spiritual.  The  bar  of  iron  obeyed  your  call, 
the  spiritless  metal  is  subservient  to  the  demands  of  intel- 
ligence.    But,  come,  we  must  continue  our  journey." 

Grasping  me  again,  he  exclaimed :  "Wish  with  all  in- 
tensity that  we  may  move  forward,  and  I  will  do  the 
same." 

I  did  so. 

"We  are  now  uniting  our  energies  in  the  creation  of 
motion,"  he  said ;  "we  are  moving  rapidly,  and  with  con- 
tinually accelerated  speed ;  soon  we  shall  perceive  the 
earthy  border  of  this  chasm." 

And  yet  it  seemed  to  me  that  we  were  at  perfect  rest. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

IS    THAT    A    MORTAL? — "tHE    END   OF    EARTH." 

At  length  I  perceived,  in  the  distance,  a  crescent- 
shaped  ring  of  silver  lustre.  It  grew  broader,  expanding 
beneath  my  gaze,  and  appeared  to  approach  rapidly. 

"Hold ;  cease  your  desire  for  onward  motion,"  said  the 
guide;  "we  approach  too  rapidly.  Quick,  wish  with  all 
your  mind  that  you  were  motionless." 

I  did  so,  and  we  rested  in  front  of  a  ridge  of  brilliant 
material,  that  in  one  direction,  toward  the  earth's  outer 
circle,  broadened  until  it  extended  upward  as  far  as  the 
eye  could  reach  in  the  form  of  a  bold  precipice,  and  in  the 
other  toward  the  inner  world,  shelved  gradually  away  as 
an  ocean  beach  might  do. 

"Tell  me,  what  is  this  barrier?"  I  asked. 

"It  is  the  opposite  edge  of  the  earth  crevice,"  he  said. 
"That  overhanging  upright  bluff  reaches  toward  the  ex- 
ternal surface  of  the  earth,  the  land  of  your  former  home. 
That  shelving  approach  beneath  is  the  entrance  to  the  'In- 
ner Circle,'  the  concavity  of  our  world." 

Again  we  approached  the  visible  substance,  moving 
gently  under  the  will  of  my  guide.  The  shore  became 
more  distinctly  outlined  as  we  advanced,  inequalities  that 
were  before  unnoticed  became  perceptible,  and  the  silver- 
like material  resolved  itself  into  ordinary  earth.  Then  I 
observed,  upright  and  motionless,  on  the  edge  of  the  shore 
that  reached  toward  the  inner  shell  of  earth,  toward  that 
"Unknown  Country"  beyond,  a  figure  in  human  form. 

"Is  that  a  mortal?"  I  asked.  "Are  we  nearing  human- 
ity again?" 

"It  is  a  being  of  mortal  build,  a  messenger  who  awaits 
our  coming,  and  who  is  to  take  charge  of  your  person  and 
conduct  you  farther,"  he  replied.     "It  has  been  my  duty 


*«  The  End  of  Earth  "  245 

to  crush,  to  overcome  by  successive  lessons  your  obedi- 
ence to  your  dogmatic,  materialistic  earth  philosophy,  and 
bring  your  mind  to  comprehend  that  life  on  earth's  sur- 
face is  only  a  step  toward  a  brighter  existence,  which  may, 
when  selfishness  is  conquered,  in  a  time  to  come,  be 
gained  by  mortal  man,  and  while  he  is  in  the  flesh.  The 
vicissitudes  through  which  you  have  recently  passed 
should  be  to  you  an  impressive  lesson,  but  the  future  holds 
for  you  a  lesson  far  more  important,  the  knowledge  of 
spiritual,  or  mental,  evolution  which  men  may  yet  ap- 
proach ;  but  that  I  would  not  presume  to  indicate  now, 
even  to  you.  Your  earthly  body  has  become  a  useless 
shell,  and  when  you  lay  it  aside,  as  you  soon  can  do,  as  I 
may  say  you  are  destined  to  do,  you  will  feel  a  relief  as 
if  an  abnormal  excrescence  had  been  removed ;  but  you 
cannot  now  comprehend  such  a  condition.  That  change 
will  not  occur  until  you  have  been  further  educated  in  the 
purely  occult  secrets  for  which  I  have  partly  prepared 
you,  and  the  material  part  of  your  organism  will  at  any 
time  thereafter  come  and  go  at  command  of  your  will. 
On  that  adjacent  shore,  the  person  you  have  observed, 
your  next  teacher,  awaits  you." 

"Am  I  to  leave  you?"  I  cried  in  despair,  for  suddenly 
the  remembrance  of  home  came  into  my  mind,  and  the 
thought,  as  by  a  flash,  that  this  occult  being  alone  could 
guide  me  back  to  earth.  "Recall  your  words,  do  not 
desert  me  now  after  leading  me  beyond  even  alchemistic 
imaginings  into  this  subterranean  existence,  the  result  of 
what  you  call  your  natural,  or  pure,  ethereal  lessons." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"I  beg  of  you,  I  implore  of  you,  not  to  abandon  me 
now;  have  you  no  compassion,  no  feeling?  You  are  the 
one  tie  that  binds  me  to  earth  proper,  the  only  intelligence 
that  I  know  to  be  related  to  a  human  in  all  this  great, 
bright  blank." 

Again  he  shook  his  head. 

"Hearken  to  my  pleadings.  Listen  to  my  allegation. 
You  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  brook  spring  in  Kentucky, 


246  Etidorhpa 

your  back  to  the  darkness  of  that  gloomy  cavern,  and  I 
vokintarily  gave  you  my  hand  as  to  a  guide ;  I  turned 
from  the  verdure  of  the  earth, the  sunshine  of  the  past, and 
accompanied  you  into  as  dismal  a  cavern  as  man  ever  en- 
tered. I  have  since  alternately  rebelled  at  your  methods, 
and  again  have  trusted  you  implicitly  as  we  passed 
through  scenes  that  rational  imagination  scarce  could 
conjure.  I  have  successively  lost  my  voice,  my  weight, 
my  breath,  my  heart  throb,  and  my  soul  for  aught  I  know. 
Now  an  unknown  future  awaits  me  on  the  one  hand,  in 
which  you  say  my  body  is  to  disappear,  and  on  the  other 
you  are  standing,  the  only  link  between  earth  and  my  self- 
existence,  a  semi-mortal  it  may  be,  to  speak  mildly,  for 
God  only  knows  your  true  rank  in  life's  scale.  Be  you 
man  or  not,  you  brought  me  here,  and  are  responsible  for 
my  future  safety.  I  plead  and  beg  of  you  either  to  go 
on  with  me  into  the  forthcoming  uncertainty  'Within  the 
Unknown  Country'  to  which  you  allude,  or  carry  me  back 
to  upper  earth." 

He  shook  his  head  again,  and  motioned  me  onward, 
and  his  powerful  will  overcoming  my  feeble  resistance, 
impelled  me  toward  that  mysterious  shore.  I  floated 
helpless,  as  a  fragment  of  camphor  whirls  and  spins  on  a 
surface  of  clear,  warm  water,  spinning  and  whirling  aim- 
lessly about,  but  moving  onward.  My  feet  rested  on  solid 
earth,  and  I  awkwardly  struggled  a  short  distance  on- 
ward and  upward,  and  then  stepped  upon  the  slope  that 
reached,  as  he  had  said,  inward  and  upward  toward  the 
unrevealed  "Inner  Circle."  I  had  entered  now  that 
mysterious  third  circle  or  sphere,  and  I  stood  on  the  very 
edge  of  the  wonderful  land  I  was  destined  to  explore, 
"The  Unknown  Country."  The  strange,  peaceful  being 
whom  I  had  observed  on  the  shore  stepped  to  my  side 
and  clasped  both  hands,  and  then  the  guide  of  former 
days  waved  me  an  adieu.  I  sank  upon  my  knees  and  im- 
ploringly raised  my  arms  in  supplication,  but  the  comrade 
of  my  journey  turned  about,  and  began  to  retrace  his 
course.    Suspended  in  vacancy,  he  seemed  to  float  as  a 


"  The  End  of  Earth  "  247 

spirit  would  if  it  were  wafted  diagonally  into  the  heavens, 
and  acquiring  momentum  rapidly,  became  quickly  a 
bright  speck,  seemingly  a  silver  mote  in  the  occult  earth 
shine  of  that  central  sphere,  and  soon  vanished  from 
view.  In  all  my  past  eventful  history  there  was  nothing 
similar  to  or  approaching  in  keenness  the  agony  that  I 
suffered  at  this  moment,  and  I  question  if  shipwrecked 
sailor  or  entombed  miner  ever  experienced  the  sense  of 
utter  desolation  that  now  possessed  and  overcame  me. 
Light  everywhere  about  me,  ever-present  light,  but  dark- 
ness within,  darkness  indescribable,  and  mental  distress 
unutterable.  I  fell  upon  my  face  in  agony,  and  thought 
of  other  times,  and  those  remembrances  of  my  once  happy 
upper  earth  life  became  excruciatingly  painful,  for  when 
a  person  is  in  misery  pleasant  recollections,  by  contrast, 
increase  the  pain.  "Let  my  soul  die  now  as  my  body  has 
done,"  I  moaned;  "for  even  mental  life,  all  I  now  possess 
is  a  burden.  The  past  to  me  is  a  painful,  melancholy  rec- 
ollection ;  the  future  is" — 

I  shuddered,  for  who  could  foretell  my  future?  I 
glanced  at  the  immovable  being  with  the  sweet,  mild 
countenance,  who  stood  silent  on  the  strand  beside  me, 
and  whom  I  shall  not  now  attempt  to  describe.  He  re- 
plied : 

"The  future  is  operative  and  speculative.  It  leads  the 
contemplative  to  view  with  reverence  and  admiration  the 
glorious  works  of  the  Creator,  and  inspires  him  with  the 
most  exalted  ideas  of  the  perfections  of  his  divine 
Creator." 

Then  he  added : 

"Have  you  accepted  that  whatever  seems  to  be  is  not, 
and  that  that  which  seems  not  to  be,  is?  Have  you 
learned  that  facts  are  fallacies,  and  physical  existence  a 
delusion?  Do  you  accept  that  material  bliss  is  impossible, 
and  that  while  humanity  is  working  toward  the  undis- 
covered land,  man  is  not,  cannot  be  satisfied  ?" 

"Yes,"  I  said;  "I  admit  anything,  everything.  I  do 
not  know  that  I  am  here  or  that  you  are  there.    I  do  not 


248  Etidorhpa 

know  that  I  have  ever  been,  or  that  any  form  of  matter 
has  ever  had  an  existence.  Perhaps  material  things  are 
not,  perhaps  vacuity  only  is  tangible." 

"Are  you  willing  to  relinquish  your  former  asso- 
ciations, to  cease  to  concern  yourself  in  the  affairs  of 
men  ?    Do  you" — 

He  hesitated,  seemed  to  consider  a  point  that  I  could 
not  grasp ;  then,  without  completing  his  sentence,  or  wait- 
ing for  me  to  answer,  added : 

"Come,  my  friend,  let  us  enter  the  expanses  of  the  Un- 
known Country.  You  will  soon  behold  the  original  of 
your  vision,  the  hope  of  humanity,  and  will  rest  in  the 
land  of  Etidorhpa.    Come,  my  friend,  let  us  hasten." 

Arm  in  arm  we  passed  into  that  domain  of  peace  and 
tranquillity,  and  as  I  stepped  onward  and  upward  perfect 
rest  came  over  my  troubled  spirit.  All  thoughts  of 
former  times  vanished.  The  cares  of  life  faded ;  misery, 
distress,  hatred,  envy,  jealousy,  and  unholy  passions 
were  blotted  from  existence.  Excepting  my  love  for  dear 
ones  still  earth-enthralled,  and  the  strand  of  sorrow  that, 
stretching  from  soul  to  soul,  linked  us  together,  the  past 
became  a  blank.  I  had  reached  the  home  of  love,  the  land 
of  Etidorhpa — 

THE    END   OF   EARTH. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 


THE   LAST   FAREWELL. 


My  mysterious  guest,  he  of  the  silver,  flowing  beard, 
read  the  last  word  of  the  foregoing  manuscript,  and  then 
laid  the  sheet  of  paper  on  the  table,  and  rested  his  head 
upon  his  hand,  gazing  thoughtfully  at  the  open  fire.  Thus 
he  sat  for  a  considerable  period  in  silence.    Then  he  said : 

"Llewellyn,  you  have  heard  part  of  my  story,  that 
portion  which  I  am  commanded  to  make  known  now,  and 
you  have  learned  how,  by  natural  methods,  I  passed  by 
successive  steps  while  in  the  body  to  the  door  that  death 
only,  as  yet,  opens  to  humanity.  You  understand  also 
that,  although  of  human  form,  I  am  not  as  other  men  (for 
with  me  matter  is  subservient  to  mind),  and  as  you  have 
promised,  so  you  must  act,  and  do  my  bidding  concern- 
ing the  manuscript." 

"But  there  is  surely  more  to  follow.  You  will  tell  me 
of  what  you  saw  and  experienced  beyond  the  end  of  earth, 
within  the  possessions  of  Etidorhpa.  Tell  me  of  that  Un- 
known Country." 

"No,"  he  answered ;  "this  is  the  end,  at  least  so  far  as 
my  connection  with  you  is  concerned.  You  still  question 
certain  portions  of  my  narrative,  I  perceive,  notwithstand- 
ing the  provings  I  have  given  you,  and  yet  as  time  passes 
investigation  will  show  that  every  word  I  have  read  or 
uttered  is  true,  historically,  philosophically,  and  spirit- 
ually (which  you  now  doubt),  and  men  will  yet  readily 
understand  how  the  seemingly  profound,  unfathomable 
phenomena  I  have  encountered  may  be  verified.  I  have 
studied  and  learned  by  bitter  experience  in  a  school  that 
teaches  from  the  outgoings  of  a  deeper  philosophy  than 
human  science  has  reached,  especially  modern  materialis- 
tic science,  which,  however,  step  by  step  it  is  destined  to 


250  Etidorhpa 

reach.  And  yet  I  have  recorded  but  a  small  part  of  the 
experiences  that  I  have  undergone.  What  I  have  related 
is  only  a  foretaste  of  the  inexhaustible  feast  which,  in 
the  wisdom  expanse  of  the  future,  will  yet  be  spread  be- 
fore man,  and  which  tempts  him  onward  and  upward. 
This  narrative,  the  end  of  which  rests  against  the  be- 
ginning of  my  real  story,  the  Unknown  Country  and  its 
possibilities  should  therefore  incite  to  renewed  exertions, 
both  mental  and  experimental,  those  permitted  to  review 
it.  I  have  carried  my  history  to  the  point  at  which  I  can 
say  to  you,  very  soon  afterward  I  gave  up  my  body  tem- 
porarily, by  a  perfectly  natural  process,  a  method  that 
man  can  yet  employ,  and  passed  as  a  spiritual  being  into 
the  ethereal  spaces,  through  those  many  mansions  which 
I  am  not  permitted  to  describe  at  this  time,  and  from 
which  I  have  been  forced  unwillingly  to  return  and  take 
up  the  semblance  of  my  body,  in  order  to  meet  you  and 
record  these  events.  I  must  await  the  development  and 
expansion  of  mind  that  will  permit  men  to  accept  this 
faithful  record  of  my  history  before  completing  the  nar- 
rative, for  men  are  yet  unprepared.  Men  must  seriously 
consider  those  truths  which,  under  inflexible  natural  laws, 
govern  the  destiny  of  man,  but  which,  if  mentioned  at  this 
day,  can  only  be  viewed  as  the  hallucinations  of  a  dis- 
ordered mind.  To  many  this  manuscript  will  prove  a 
passing  romance,  to  others  an  enigma,  to  others  still  it 
will  be  a  pleasing  study.  Men  are  not  now  in  a  condition 
to  receive  even  this  paper.  That  fact  I  know  full  well, 
and  I  have  accordingly  arranged  that  thirty  years  shall 
pass  before  it  is  made  public.  Then  they  will  have  begun 
to  study  more  deeply  into  force  disturbances,  exhibitions 
of  energy  that  are  now  known  and  called  imponderable 
bodies  (perhaps  some  of  my  statements  will  then  even  be 
verified),  and  to  reflect  over  the  connection  of  matter 
therewith.  A  few  minds  will  then  be  capable  of  vaguely 
conceiving  possibilities,  which  this  paper  will  serve  to 
foretell,  for  a  true  solution  of  the  great  problems  of  the 
ethereal  unknown  is  herein  suggested,  the  study  of  which 


The  Last  Farewell  251 

will  lead  to  a  final  elevation  of  humanity,  such  as  I  dare 
not  prophesy." 

"Much  of  the  paper  is  obscure  to  me,"  I  said ;  "and 
there  are  occasional  phrases  and  repetitions  that  appear 
to  be  interjected,  possibly  with  an  object,  and  which  are 
yet  disconnected  from  the  narrative  proper." 

"That  is  true ;  the  paper  often  contains  statements  that 
are  emblematical,  and  which  you  cannot  understand,  but 
yet  such  portions  carry  to  others  a  hidden  meaning.  I  am 
directed  to  speak  to  many  persons  besides  yourself,  and  I 
cannot  meet  those  whom  I  address  more  directly  than  I 
do  through  this  communication.  These  pages  will  serve 
to  instruct  many  people — people  whom  you  will  never 
know,  to  whom  I  have  brought  messages  that  will  in 
secret  be  read  between  the  lines." 

"Why  not  give  it  to  such  persons?" 

"Because  I  am  directed  to  bring  it  to  you,"  he  replied, 
"and  you  are  required : 

"First.  To  seal  the  manuscript,  and  place  it  in  the  in- 
ner vault  of  your  safe. 

"Second.  To  draw  up  a  will,  and  provide  in  case  of 
your  death,  that  after  the  expiration  of  thirty  years  from 
this  date  the  seals  are  to  be  broken,  and  a  limited  edition 
published  in  book  form,  by  one  you  select. 

"Third.  An  artist  capable  of  grasping  the  conceptions 
will  at  the  proper  time  be  found,  to  whom  the  responsibil- 
ity of  illustrating  the  volume  is  to  be  entrusted,  he  re- 
ceiving credit  therefor.  Only  himself  and  yourself  (or 
your  selected  agent)  are  to  presume  to  select  the  subjects 
for  illustration. 

"Fourth.  In  case  you  are  in  this  city,  upon  the  ex- 
piration of  thirty  years,  you  are  to  open  the  package  and 
follow  the  directions  given  in  the  envelope  therein." 

And  he  then  placed  on  the  manuscript  a  sealed  en- 
velope addressed  to  myself. 

"This  I  have  promised  already,"  I  said. 

"Very  well,"  he  remarked,  "I  must  bid  you  farewell." 

"Wait  a  moment ;  it  is  unjust  to  leave  the  narrative  thus 


252  Etidorhpa 

uncompleted.  You  had  been  promised  a  future  in  com- 
parison with  which  the  experiences  you  have  undergone 
and  have  related  to  me  were  tame ;  you  had  just  met  on 
the  edge  of  the  inner  circle  that  mysterious  being  con- 
cerning whom  I  am  deeply  interested,  as  I  am  in  the  con- 
tinuation of  your  personal  narrative,  and  you  have  evi- 
dently more  to  relate,  for  you  must  have  passed  into  that 
Unknown  Country.  You  claim  to  have  done  so,  but  you 
break  the  thread  in  the  most  attractive  part  by  leaving 
the  future  open  to  conjecture." 

"It  must  be  so.  This  is  a  history  of  man  on  Earth,  the 
continuation  will  be  a  history  of  man  within  the  Un- 
known Country." 

"And  1  am  not  to  receive  the  remainder  of  your  story?" 
I  reiterated,  still  loath  to  give  it  up. 

"No;  I  shall  not  appear  directly  to  you  again.  Your 
part  in  this  work  will  have  ended  when,  after  thirty 
years,  you  carry  out  the  directions  given  in  the  sealed 
letter  which,  with  this  manuscript,  I  entrust  to  your  care. 
I  must  return  now  to  the  shore  that  separated  me  from 
my  former  guide,  and  having  again  laid  down  this 
semblance  of  a  body,  go  once  more  into" — 

He  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and  sobbed.  Yes ;  this 
strange,  mystical  being  whom  I  knew  only  as  I-Am-The- 
Man,  and  at  first  considered  an  impertinent  fanatic,  and 
more  than  once  afterward  had  been  induced  to  view  as 
a  cunning  impostor,  or  to  fear  as  a  cold,  semi-mortal, 
sobbed  like  a  child. 

"It  is  too  much,"  he  said,  seemingly  speaking  to  him- 
self ;  "too  much  to  require  of  one  not  yet  immortal,  for  the 
good  of  his  race.  I  am  again  with  men,  nearly  a  human, 
and  I  long  to  go  back  once  more  to  my  old  home,  my  wife, 
my  children.  Why  am  I  forbidden  ?  The  sweets  of  Para- 
dise cannot  comfort  the  mortal  who  must  give  up  his 
home  and  family,  and  yet  carry  his  earth-thought  beyond. 
Man  cannot  possess  unalloyed  joys  and  blessings 
spiritual  and  retain  one  backward  longing  for  mundane 
subjects,  and  I  now  yearn  again  for  my  earth  love,  my 


The  Last  Farewell  253 

material  family.  Having  tasted  of  semi-celestial  pleas- 
ures in  one  of  the  mansions  of  that  complacent,  pure,  and 
restful  sphere,  I  now  exist  in  the  border  land,  but  my 
earth  home  is  not  relinquished ;  I  cling  as  a  mortal  to 
former  scenes,  and  crave  to  meet  my  lost  loved  ones.  All 
of  earth  must  be  left  behind  if  Paradise  is  ever  wholly 
gained,  yet  I  have  still  my  sublunary  thoughts. 

"Etidorhpa !  Etidorhpa!"  he  pleaded,  turning  his  eyes 
as  if  toward  one  I  could  not  see,  "Etidorhpa,  my  old 
home  calls.  Thou  knowest  that  the  beginning  of  man  on 
earth  is  a  cry  born  of  love,  and  the  end  of  man  on  earth 
is  a  cry  for  love ;  love  is  a  gift  of  Etidorhpa,  and  thou, 
Etidorhpa,  the  soul  of  love,  shouldst  have  compassion 
on  a  pleading  mortal." 

He  raised  his  hands  in  supplicatio 

"Have  mercy  on  me,  Etidorhpa,  as  I  would  on  you  if 
you  were  I  and  I  were  Etidorhpa." 

Then  with  upturned  face  he  stood  long  and  silent,  lis- 
tening. 

"Ah,"  he  murmured  at  last,  as  if  in  reply  to  a  voice  I 
could  not  catch,  a  voice  that  carried  to  his  ear  an  answer 
of  deep  disappointment ;  "thou  spokest  truly  in  the  vision, 
Etidorhpa ;  it  is  love  that  enslaves  mankind ;  love  that 
commands ;  love  that  ensnares  and  rules  mankind,  and 
thou,  Etidorhpa,  art  the  soul  of  Love.  True  it  is  that 
were  there  no  Etidorhpa,  there  would  still  be  tears  on 
earth,  but  the  cold,  meaningless  tears  of  pain  only.  No 
mourning  people,  no  sorrowful  partings,  no  sobbing 
mothers  kneeling  with  upturned  faces,  no  planting  of  the 
myrtle  and  the  rose  on  sacred  graves.  There  would  be 
no  child-love,  no  home,  no  tomb,  no  sorrow,  no  Be- 
yond"— 

He  hesitated,  sank  upon  his  knees,  pleadingly  raised 
his  clasped  hands  and  seemed  to  listen  to  that  far-off 
voice,  then  bowed  his  head,  and  answered : 

"Yes ;  thou  art  right,  Etidorhpa — although  thou  bring- 
est  sorrow  to  mortals,  without  thee  and  this  sorrow-gift 
there  could  be  no  brighter  hereafter.    Thou  art  just,  Eti- 


254  Etidorhpa 

dorhpa,  and  always  wise.  Love  is  the  seed,  and  sorrow  is 
the  harvest,  but  this  harvest  of  sadness  is  to  man  the 
richest  gift  of  love,  the  golden  link  that  joins  the  spirit 
form  that  has  fled  to  the  spirit  that  is  still  enthralled  on 
earth.  Were  there  no  earth-love,  there  could  be  no  heart- 
sorrow;  were  there  no  craving  for  loved  ones  gone,  the 
soul  of  man  would  rest  forever  a  brother  of  the  clod.  He 
who  has  sorrowed  and  not  profited  by  his  sorrow-lesson 
is  unfitted  for  life.  He  who  heeds  best  his  sorrow-teacher 
is  in  closest  touch  with  humanity,  and  nearest  to  Eti- 
dorhpa. She  who  has  drunk  most  deeply  of  sorrow's 
cup  has  best  fitted  herself  for  woman's  sphere  in  life,  and 
a  final  home  of  immortal  bliss.  I  will  return  to  thy 
realms,  Etidorhpa,  and  this  silken  strand  of  sorrow 
wrapped  around  my  heart,  reaching  from  earth  to  Para- 
dise and  back  to  earth,  will  guide  at  last  my  loved  ones 
to  the  realms  beyond — the  home  of  Etidorhpa." 

Rising,  turning  to  me,  and  subduing  his  emotion,  ignor- 
ing this  outburst,  he  said  : 

"If  time  should  convince  you  that  I  have  related  a 
faithful  history,  if  in  after  years  you  come  to  learn  my 
name  (I  have  been  forbidden  to  speak  it),  and  are  con- 
vinced of  my  identity,  promise  me  that  you  will  do  your 
unbidden  guest  a  favor." 

"This  I  will  surely  do ;  what  shall  it  be  ?" 

"I  left  a  wife,  a  little  babe,  and  a  two-year-old  child 
when  I  was  taken  away,  abducted  in  the  manner  that  I 
have  faithfully  recorded.  In  my  subsequent  experience 
I  have  not  been  able  to  cast  them  from  my  memory.  I 
know  that  through  my  error  they  have  been  lost  to  me, 
and  will  be  until  we  shall  meet  again  in  one  of  the  waiting 
Mansions  of  the  Great  Beyond.  I  beg  you  to  ascertain, 
if  possible,  if  either  my  children,  or  my  children's 
children,  live,  and  should  they  be  in  want,  present  them 
with  a  substantial  testimonial.     Now,  farewell." 

He  held  out  his  hand,  I  grasped  it,  and  as  I  did  so  his 
form  became  indistinct,  and  gradually  disappeared  from' 
my  gaze,  the  fingers  of  my  hand  met  the  palm  in  vacancy, 


I>  Al.ONK  IN  MY   ROOM    I K  )l.l)lNli  THE  MYSTEKIolS  MANUSCRIPT. 


The  Last  Farewell  255 

and  with  extended  arms  I  stood  alone  in  my  room,  hold- 
ing the  mysterious  manuscript,  on  the  back  of  which  I 
find  plainly  engrossed : 

"  There  are  more  things  in  Heaven  and  Earth,  Horatio, 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philosophy." 


AND    NOW    FOLLOW 
THE    REMARKABLE    DISCUSSIONS 

AND    THE 

ASTONISHING    EXPERIMENTS   THAT 

I-AM-THE-MAN 

(The  unbidden  guest) 

INTRODUCED   TO    CONFOUND 
LLEWELLYN   DRURY 

(His  unwilling  host) 
ALSO 

THE   CHAPTERS    EXCLUDED    FROM    FORMER 
EDITIONS   OF   ETIDORHPA 


Although  the  subjects  that  follow  are  complete  in 
themselves,  they  are  nevertheless  closely  connected  with 
the  preceding  chapters.  Readers  desirous  of  tracing  the 
relationship  may  do  so  by  means  of  the  following  table : 


Chapter 


XLIV. 

leads  to 

Chapter             V. 

XLV. 

< 

XVI. 

XLVI. 

'      " 

XVII. 

XLVII. 

.      .. 

XIX. 

XLVIII. 

'      " 

XXI 

XLIX. 

XXI 

L. 

XXIV 

LI. 

<      .. 

XXV 

LII. 

.      .. 

XXVI 

LIII. 

.      .. 

LII 

LIV. 

'      " 

LIII 

LVI. 

.      .. 

XXXIX 

CHAPTER   XLIV. 


A   SEARCH    FOR   KNOWLEDGE. 


(This  is  the  allegorical  letter  that  led  to  the  mysterious  jour- 
ney described  in  the  preceding  chapters,  and  to  the  discussions 
that  follow.) 

To  the  Brother  Adept  who  dares  try  to  discover  Zoro- 
aster's Cave,  or  the  Philosophers'  Intellectual 
Echoes,  by  means  of  which  they  communicate  to 
one  another  from  their  caves. 

Know  thou,  that  Hermes  Trismegistus  did  not  origi- 
nate, but  gave  to  our  philosophy  his  name — the  Hermetic 
Art.  Evolved  in  a  dim,  mystic  age,  before  antiquity 
began,  it  endured  through  the  slowly  rolling  cycles 
to  be  bandied  about  by  the  ever-ready  flippancy  of 
nineteenth-century  students.  It  has  lived,  because  it  is 
endowed  with  that  quality  which  never  dies — truth. 
Modern  philosophy,  of  which  chemistry  is  but  a  frag- 
ment, draws  its  sustenance  from  the  prime  facts  which 
were  revealed  in  ancient  Egypt  through  Hermetic 
thought,  and  fixed  by  the  Hermetic  stylus. 

"The  Hermetic  allegories,"  so  various  in  interpretable 
susceptibility,  led  subsequent  thinkers  into  speculations 
and  experimentations,  which  have  resulted  profitably  to 
the  world.  It  is  not  strange  that  some  of  the  followers 
of  Hermes,  especially  the  more  mercurial  and  imagina- 
tive, should  have  evolved  nebulous  theories,  no  longer 
explainable,  and  involving  recondite  spiritual  considera- 
tions. Know  thou  that  the  ultimate  on  psycho-chemical 
investigation  is  the  proximate  of  the  infinite.  Accord- 
ingly, a  class  came  to  believe  that  a  projection  of  natural 
mental  faculties  into  an  advanced  state  of  consciousness 


26o  Etidorhpa 

called  the  "wisdom  faculty"  constitutes  the  final  pos- 
sibility of  Alchemy.  The  attainment  of  this  exalted  con- 
dition is  still  believed  practicable  by  many  earnest 
savants.  Once  on  this  lofty  plane,  the  individual  w^ould 
not  be  trammelled  by  material  obstacles,  but  would  abide 
in  that  spiritual  placidity  which  is  the  exquisite  real- 
ization of  mortal  perfection.  So  exalted,  he  would  be  in 
naked  parallelism  with  Omniscience,  and  through  his  il- 
luminated understanding  could  feast  his  soul  on  those 
exalted  pleasures  which  are  scarcely  less  than  deific. 

Notwithstanding  the  exploitings  of  a  number  of  these 
philosophers,  in  which,  by  reason  of  our  inability  to  com- 
prehend, sense  seemed  lost  in  a  passage  of  incohesive 
dreamery  and  resonancy  of  terminology,  some  of  the 
purest  spiritual  researches  the  world  has  ever  known 
were  made  in  the  dawn  of  history.  The  much  abused 
alchemical  philosophers  existed  upon  a  plane,  in  some 
respects  above  the  level  of  the  science  of  to-day.  Many 
of  them  lived  for  the  good  of  the  world  only,  in  an  atmos- 
phere above  the  materialistic  hordes  that  people  the  world, 
and  toiling  over  their  crucibles  and  alembics,  died  in 
their  cells  "uttering  no  voice."  Take,  for  example, 
Eirenaeus  Philalethes,  who,  born  in  1623,  lived  contem- 
poraneously with  Robert  Boyle.  A  fragment  from  his 
writings  will  illustrate  the  purpose  which  impelled  the 
searcher  for  the  true  light  of  alchemy  to  record  his  dis- 
coveries in  allegories,  and  we  have  no  right  to  question 
the  honesty  of  his  utterances : 

"The  Searcher  of  all  hearts  knows  that  I  write  the 
truth ;  nor  is  there  any  cause  to  accuse  me  of  envy.  I 
write  with  an  unterrified  quill  in  an  unheard-of  style,  to 
the  honor  of  God,  to  the  profit  of  my  neighbors,  with 
contempt  of  the  world  and  its  riches,  because  Elias,  the 
artist,  is  already  born,  and  now  glorious  things  are  de- 
clared of  the  city  of  God.  I  dare  affirm  that  I  do  possess 
more  riches  than  the  whole  known  world  is  worth,  but  I 
cannot  make  use  of  it  because  of  the  snares  of  knaves.  I 
disdain,  loathe,  and   detest  the   idolizing  of  silver  and 


A  Search  for  Knowledge  261 

gold,  by  which  the  pomps  and  vanities  of  the  world  are 
celebrated.  Ah  !  filthy  evil !  Ah  !  vain  nothingness  !  Be- 
lieve ye  that  I  conceal  the  art  out  of  envy?  No,  verily, 
I  protest  to  you;  I  grieve  from  the  very  bottom  of  my 
soul  that  we  (alchemists)  are  driven  like  vagabonds 
from  the  face  of  the  Lord  throughout  the  earth.  But 
what  need  of  many  words  ?  The  thing  that  we  have  seen, 
taught,  and  made,  which  we  have,  possess,  and  know, 
that  we  do  declare;  being  moved  with  compassion  for 
the  studious,  and  with  indignation  of  gold,  silver,  and 
precious  stones.  Believe  me,  the  time  is  at  the  door,  I 
feel  it  in  spirit,  when  we,  adeptists,  shall  return  from  the 
four  corners  of  the  earth,  nor  shall  we  fear  any  snares 
that  are  laid  against  our  lives,  but  we  shall  give  thanks 
to  the  Lord  our  God.  I  would  to  God  that  every  in- 
genious man  in  the  whole  earth  understood  this  science ; 
then  it  would  be  valued  only  for  its  wisdom,  and  virtue 
only  would  be  had  in  honor." 

Of  course  there  was  a  more  worldly  class,  and  a  large 
contingent  of  mercenary  impostors  (as  science  is  always 
encumbered),  parasites,  whose  animus  was  shamefully 
unlike  the  purity  of  true  esoteric  psychologists.  These 
men  devoted  their  lives  to  experimentation  for  selfish 
advancement.  They  constructed  alchemical  outfits,  and 
carried  on  a  ceaseless  inquiry  into  the  nature  of  solvents, 
and  studied  their  influences  on  earthly  bodies,  their  ul- 
timate object  being  the  discovery  of  the  Philosopher's 
Stone,  and  the  alkahest  which  Boerhaave  asserts  was 
never  discovered.  Their  records  were  often  a  verbose 
melange,  purposely  so  written,  no  doubt,  to  cover  their 
tracks,  and  to  make  themselves  conspicuous.  Other 
Hermetic  believers  occupied  a  more  elevated  position, 
and  connected  the  intellectual  with  the  material,  hoping 
to  gain  by  their  philosophy  and  science  not  only  gold  and 
silver,  which  were  secondary  considerations,  but  the 
highest  literary  achievement,  the  Magnum  Opus.  Others 
still  sought  to  draw  from  Astrology  and  Magic  the  secrets 


262  Etidorhpa 

that  would  lead  them  to  their  ambitious  goal.  Thus  there 
were  degrees  of  fineness  in  a  fraternity,  which  the  science 
of  to-day  must  recognize  and  admit. 

Boerhaave,  the  illustrious,  respected  Geber,  of  the 
alchemistic  school,  and  none  need  feel  compromised  in 
admiring  the  talented  alchemists  who,  like  Geber, 
wrought  in  the  twilight  of  morn  for  the  coming  world's 
good.  We  are  now  enjoying  a  fragment  of  the  ultimate 
results  of  their  genius  and  industry  in  the  materialistic 
outcomes  of  present-day  chemistry,  to  be  followed  by 
others  more  valuable ;  and  at  last,  when  mankind  is  ripe 
in  the  wisdom  faculty,  by  spiritual  contentment  in  the 
complacent  furtherings  beyond.  Allow  me  briefly  to  re- 
fer to  a  few  men  of  the  alchemistic  type  whose  records 
may  be  considered  with  advantage. 

Rhasis,  a  conspicuous  alchemist,  born  in  850,  first 
mentioned  orpiment,  borax,  compounds  of  iron,  copper, 
arsenic,  and  other  similar  substances.  It  is  said,  too,  that 
he  discovered  the  art  of  making  brandy.  About  a  cen- 
tury later,  Alfarabe  (killed  in  950),  a  great  alchemist, 
astonished  the  King  of  Syria  with  his  profound  learning, 
and  excited  the  admiration  of  the  wise  men  of  the  East 
by  his  varied  accomplishments.  Later,  Albertus  Magnus 
(born  1205),  noted  for  his  talent  and  skill,  believed 
firmly  in  the  doctrine  of  transmutation.  His  beloved 
pupil,  Thomas  Aquinas,  gave  us  the  word  amalgam,  and 
it  still  serves  us.  Contemporaneously  with  these  lived 
Roger  Bacon  (born  1214),  who  was  a  man  of  most  ex- 
traordinary ability.  There  has  never  been  a  greater  Eng- 
lish intellect  (not  excepting  his  illustrious  namesake, 
Lord  Bacon),  and  his  penetrating  mind  delved  deeper 
into  Nature's  laws  than  that  of  any  successor.  He  told 
us  of  facts  concerning  the  sciences,  that  scientific  men 
cannot  fully  comprehend  to-day ;  he  told  us  of  other 
things  that  lie  beyond  the  science  provings  of  to-day, 
that  modern  philosophers  cannot  grasp.  He  was  an 
enthusiastic  believer   in  the   Hermetic   philosophy,   and 


A  Search  for  Knowledge  263 

such  were  his  erudition  and  advanced  views,  that  his 
brother  friars,  through  jealousy  and  superstition,  had 
him  thrown  into  prison — a  common  fate  to  men  who  in 
those  days  dared  to  think  ahead  of  their  age.  Despite 
(as  some  would  say)  of  his  mighty  reasoning  power  and 
splendid  attainments,  he  believed  the  Philosopher's  Stone 
to  be  a  reality ;  he  believed  the  secret  of  indefinite  pro- 
longation of  life  abode  in  alchemy ;  that  the  future  could 
be  predicted  by  means  of  a  mirror  which  he  called 
Almuchese,  and  that  by  alchemy  an  adept  could  produce 
pure  gold.  Roger  Bacon,  600  years  ago,  asserted  that  by 
means  of  Aristotle's  "Secret  of  Secrets,"  pure  gold  can 
be  made ;  gold  even  purer  and  finer  than  what  men  now 
know  as  gold.  In  connection  with  other  predictions  he 
made  an  assertion  that  may  with  other  seemingly  unrea- 
sonable predictions  be  verified  in  time  to  come.  He  said : 
"It  is  equally  possible  to  construct  cars  which  may  be 
set  in  motion  with  marvellous  rapidity,  independently  of 
horses  or  other  animals."  He  declared  that  the  ancients 
had  done  this,  and  he  believed  the  art  might  be  revived. 
Following  came  various  enthusiasts,  such  as  Raymond, 
the  ephemeral  (died  1315),  who  flared  like  a  meteor  into 
his  brief,  brilliant  career;  Arnold  de  Villanova  (1240),  a 
celebrated  adept,  whose  books  were  burned  by  the  In- 
quisition on  account  of  the  heresy  they  taught ;  Nicholas 
Flamel,  of  France  (1350),  loved  by  the  people  for  his 
charities,  the  wonder  of  his  age  (our  age  will  not  admit 
the  facts)  on  account  of  the  vast  fortune  he  amassed 
without  visible  means  or  income,  outside  of  alchemical 
lore ;  Johannes  de  Rupecissus,  a  man  of  such  remarkable 
daring  that  in  1357,  he  even  reprimanded  Pope  Innocent 
VI.,  for  which  he  was  promptly  imprisoned ;  Basil 
Valentine  ( 1410),  the  author  of  many  works,  and  the 
man  who  introduced  antimony  (antimonaches)  into 
medicine ;  Isaac,  of  Holland,  who,  with  his  son,  skilfully 
made  artifical  gems  that  could  not  be  distinguished  from 
the  natural;  Bernard  Trevison  (born  1406),  who  spent 
$30,000  in  the  study  of  alchemy,  out  of  most  of  which 


264  Etidorhpa 

he  was  cheated  by  cruel  alchemic  pretenders,  for  even  in 
that  day  there  were  plenty  of  rogues  to  counterfeit  a 
good  thing.  Under  stress  of  his  strong  alchemic  con- 
victions, Thomas  Dalton  placed  his  head  on  the  block  by 
order  of  the  virtuous  (?)  and  conservative  Thomas 
Herbert,  'squire  to  King  Edward;  Jacob  Bohme  (born 
1575),  the  sweet,  pure  spirit  of  Christian  mysticism, 
"The  Voice  of  Heaven,"  than  whom  none  stood  higher 
in  true  alchemy,  was  a  Christian,  alchemist,  theosophist ; 
Robert  Boyle,  a  conspicuous  alchemical  philosopher,  in 
1662  published  his  "Defence  of  the  Doctrine  touching  the 
Spring  and  Weight  of  the  Air,"  and  illustrated  his 
arguments  by  a  series  of  ingenious  and  beautiful  ex- 
periments, that  stand  to-day  so  high  in  the  estimation  of 
scientific  men,  that  his  remarks  are  copied  verbatim  by 
our  highest  authorities,  and  his  apparatus  is  the  best  yet 
devised  for  the  purpose.  Boyle's  "Law"  was  evolved 
and  carefully  defined  fourteen  years  before  Mariotte's 
"Discours  de  la  Nature  de  1'  Air"  appeared,  which  did 
not,  however,  prevent  French  and  German  scientific  men 
from  giving  the  credit  to  Mariotte,  and  they  still  follow 
the  false  teacher  who  boldly  pirated  not  only  Boyle's 
ideas,  but  stole  his  apparatus. 

Then  appeared  such  men  as  Paracelsus  (born  1493), 
the  celebrated  physician,  who  taught  that  occultism 
(esoteric  philosophy)  was  superior  to  experimental 
chemistry  in  enlightening  us  concerning  the  transmuta- 
tion of  baser  metals  into  gold  and  silver ;  and  Gueppo 
Francisco  (born  1627),  who  wrote  a  beautiful  treatise  on 
"Elementary  Spirits,"  which  was  copied  without  credit 
by  Compte  de  Gabalis.  It  seems  incredible  that  the  man 
(Gueppo  Francisco),  whose  sweet  spirit-thoughts  are 
revivified  and  breathe  anew  in  "Undine"  and  "The  Rape 
of  the  Lock,"  should  have  been  thrown  into  a  prison  to 
perish  as  a  Hermetic  follower;  and  this  should  teach  us 
not  to  question  the  earnestness  of  those  who  left  us  as  a 
legacy  the  beauty  and  truth  so  abundantly  found  in  pure 
alchemy. 


A  Search  for  Knowledge  265 

These  and  many  others,  contemporaries,  some  con- 
spicuous, and  others  whose  names  do  not  shine  in  written 
history,  contributed  incalculably  to  the  grand  aggregate 
of  knowledge  concerning  the  divine  secret  which  en- 
riched the  world.  Compare  the  benefits  of  Hermetic  phi- 
losophy with  the  result  of  bloody  wars  ambitiously 
waged  by  self-exacting  tyrants — tyrants  whom  history 
applauds  as  heroes,  but  whom  we  consider  as  butchers. 
Among  the  workers  in  alchemy  are  enumerated  nobles, 
kings,  and  even  popes.  Pope  John  XXII.  was  an 
alchemist,  which  accounts  for  his  bull  against  impostors, 
promulgated  in  order  that  true  students  might  not  be 
discredited ;  and  King  Frederick  of  Naples  sanctioned 
the  art,  and  protected  its  devotees. 

At  last,  Count  Cagliostro,  the  checkered  "Joseph 
Balsamo"  (born  1743),  who  combined  alchemy,  magic, 
astrology,  sleight  of  hand,  mesmerism.  Free  Masonry, 
and  remarkable  personal  accomplishments,  that  alto- 
gether have  never  since  been  equalled,  burst  upon  the 
world.  Focusing  the  gaze  of  the  Church,  kings,  and  the 
commons  upon  himself,  in  many  respects  the  most 
audacious  pretender  that  history  records,  he  raised  the 
Hermetic  art  to  a  dazzling  height,  and  finally  buried  it 
in  a  blaze  of  splendor  as  he  passed  from  existence  beneath 
a  mantle  of  shame.  As  a  meteor  streams  into  view  from 
out  the  star  mists  of  space,  and  in  corruscating  glory 
sinks  into  the  sea,  Cagliostro  blazed  into  the  sky  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  from  the  nebulae  of  alchemistic  specu- 
lation, and  extinguished  both  himself  and  his  science  in 
the  light  of  the  rising  sun  of  materialism.  Cagliostro,  the 
visionary,  the  poet,  the  inspired,  the  erratic  comet  in  the 
universe  of  intellect,  perished  in  prison  as  a  mountebank, 
and  then  the  plodding  chemist  of  to-day,  with  his  tedious 
mechanical  methods,  and  cold,  unresponsive,  materialis- 
tic dogmas,  arose  from  the  ashes  and  sprang  into 
prominence. 

Read  the  story  backward,  and  you  shall  see  that  in 


266  Etidorhpa 

alchemy  we  behold  the  beginning  of  all  the  sciences  of  to- 
day ;  alchemy  is  the  cradle  that  rocked  them.  Fostered 
with  necromancy,  astrology,  occultism,  and  all  the  prog- 
eny of  mystic  dreamery,  the  infant  sciences  struggled 
for  existence  through  the  dark  ages,  in  care  of  the  once 
persecuted  and  now  traduced  alchemist.  The  world 
owes  a  monument  to-day  more  to  Hermetic  heroes  than 
to  all  other  influences  and  instrumentalities  combined,  re- 
ligion excepted,  for  our  present  civilization  is  largely 
a  legacy  from  the  alchemist.  Begin  with  Hermes 
Trismegistus,  and  close  with  Joseph  Balsamo,  and  if  you 
are  inclined  toward  science,  do  not  criticise  too  severely 
their  verbal  logorrhea,  and  their  romanticism,  for  your 
science  is  treading  backward ;  it  will  encroach  upon  their 
field  again,  and  you  may  have  to  unsay  your  words  of 
hasty  censure.  These  men  fulfilled  their  mission,  and  did 
it  well.  If  they  told  more  than  men  now  think  they 
knew,  they  also  knew  more  than  they  told,  and  more  than 
modern  philosophy  embraces.  They  covild  not  live  to 
see  all  the  future  they  eagerly  hoped  for,  but  they  started 
a  future  for  mankind  that  will  far  exceed  in  sweetness 
and  light  the  most  entrancing  visions  of  their  most 
imaginative  dreamers.  They  spoke  of  the  existence  of 
a  "red  elixir,"  and  while  they  wrote,  the  barbarous  world 
about  them  ran  red  with  blood — blood  of  the  pure  in 
heart,  blood  of  the  saints,  blood  of  a  Saviour;  and  their 
allegory  and  wisdom  formulse  were  recorded  in  blood  of 
their  own  sacrifices.  They  dreamed  of  a  "white  elixir" 
that  is  yet  to  bless  mankind,  and  a  brighter  day  for  man, 
a  period  of  peace,  happiness,  long  life,  contentment,  good 
will  and  brotherly  love,  and  in  the  name  of  this  "white 
elixir"  they  directed  the  world  toward  a  vision  of  divine 
light.  Even  pure  gold,  as  they  told  the  materialistic 
world  who  worship  gold,  was  penetrated  and  whelmed 
by  this  subtle,  superlatively  refined  spirit  of  matter.  Is 
not  the  day  of  the  allegorical  "white  elixir"  near  at  hand? 
Would  that  it  were ! 


A  Search  for  Knowledge  267 

I  say  to  you  now,  brothers  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
as  one  speaking  by  authority  to  you,  cease  (some  of  you) 
to  study  this  entrancing  past,  look  to  the  future  by  grasp- 
ing the  present,  cast  aside  (some  of  you)  the  alchemical 
lore  of  other  days,  give  up  your  loved  allegories ;  it  is  a 
duty,  you  must  relinquish  them.  There  is  a  richer  field. 
Do  not  delay.  Unlock  this  mystic  door  that  stands 
hinged  and  ready,  waiting  the  touch  of  men  who  can  in- 
terpret the  talisman ;  place  before  mankind  the  knowl- 
edge that  lies  behind  its  rivets.  In  the  secret  lodges  that 
have  preserved  the  wisdom  of  the  days  of  Enoch  and 
Elias  of  Egypt,  who  propagated  the  Egyptian  Order,  a 
branch  of  your  ancient  brotherhood,  is  to  be  found  con- 
cealed much  knowledge  that  should  now  be  spread  before 
the  world,  and  added  to  the  treasures  of  our  circle  of 
adepts.  This  cabalistic  wisdom  is  not  recorded  in  books 
nor  in  manuscript,  but  has  been  purposely  preserved  from 
the  uninitiated,  in  the  unreadable  brains  of  unresponsive 
men.  Those  who  are  selected  to  act  as  carriers  thereof 
are,  as  a  rule,  like  dumb  water  bearers,  or  the  dead  sheet 
of  paper  that  mechanically  preserves  an  inspiration  de- 
rived from  minds  unseen :  they  serve  a  purpose  as  a  child 
mechanically  commits  to  memory  a  blank  verse  to  repeat 
to  others,  who  in  turn  commit  to  repeat  again — neither 
of  them  speaking  understandingly.  Search  ye  these 
hidden  paths,  for  the  day  of  mental  liberation  approaches, 
and  publish  to  the  world  all  that  is  locked  within  the 
doors  of  that  antiquated  organization.  The  world  is 
nearly  ripe  for  the  wisdom  faculty,  and  men  are  ready 
to  unravel  the  golden  threads  that  mystic  wisdom  has  in- 
woven in  her  web  of  secret  knowledge.  Look  for  knowl- 
edge where  I  have  indicated,  and  to  gain  it  do  not  hesi- 
tate to  swear  allegiance  to  this  sacred  order,  for  so  you 
must  do  to  gain  entrance  to  the  brotherhood,  and  then 
you  must  act  what  men  will  call  the  traitor.  You  will, 
however,  be  doing  a  sacred  duty,  for  the  world  will  profit, 
humanity  will  be  the  gainer,  "Peace  on  Earth,  Good  Will 
to  Man,"  will  be  closer  to  mankind,  and  at  last,  when  the 


268  Etidorhpa 

sign  appears,  the  "white  ehxir"  will  no  longer  be  al- 
legorical ;  it  will  become  a  reality.  In  the  name  of  the 
Great  Mystic  Vase  Man,  go  thou  into  these  lodges,  learn 
of  their  secrets,  and  spread  their  treasures  before  those 
who  can  interpret  them. 


CHAPTER   XLV. 

VITALIZED    DARKNESS. THE    NARROWS    IN    SCIENCE. 

(In  which  the  mysterious  companion  of  I-Am-The-Man  dis- 
cusses several  problems  connected  with  life  and  affairs.) 

"In  studying  any  branch  of  science  men  begin  and  end 
with  an  unknown.  The  chemist  accepts  as  data  such  con- 
ditions of  matter  as  he  finds  about  him,  and  connects  pon- 
derable matter  with  the  displays  of  energy  that  have 
impressed  his  senses,  building  therefrom  a  span  of 
theoretical  science,  but  he  cannot  formulate  as  yet  an  ex- 
planation regarding  the  origin  or  the  end  of  either  mind, 
matter  or  energy.  The  piers  supporting  his  fabric  stand 
in  a  profound  invisible  gulf,  into  which  even  his  imagina- 
tion cannot  look  to  form  a  theory  concerning  basic 
formations — corner-stones. 

"The  geologist,  in  a  like  manner,  grasps  feebly  the 
lessons  left  in  the  superficial  fragments  of  earth  strata, 
impressions  that  remain  to  bear  imperfect  record  of  a 
few  of  the  disturbances  that  have  affected  the  earth's 
crust,  and  he  endeavors  to  formulate  a  story  of  the 
world's  life,  but  he  is  neither  able  to  antedate  the  records 
shown  by  the  meagre  testimony  at  his  command,  scraps 
of  a  leaf  out  of  God's  great  book  of  history,  nor  to  antic- 
ipate coming  events.  The  birth,  as  well  as  the  death,  of 
this  planet  is  beyond  his  page. 

"The  astronomer  directs  his  telescope  to  the  heavens, 
records  the  position  of  the  planets,  and  hopes  to  discover 
the  influences  worlds  exert  upon  one  another.  He  ex- 
plores space  to  obtain  data  to  enable  him  to  delineate  a 
map  of  the  visible  solar  universe,  but  the  instruments  he 
has  at  command  are  so  imperfect,  and  mind  is  so  feeble, 
that  like  mockery  seems  his  attempt  to  study  behind  the 


270  Etidorhpa 

facts  connected  with  the  motions  and  simplest  conditions 
of  the  nearest  heavenly  bodies,  and  he  cannot  offer  an 
explanation  of  the  beginning  or  cessation  of  their  move- 
ments. He  can  neither  account  for  their  existence  nor 
foretell  their  end." 

"Are  you  not  mistaken  ?"  I  interrupted ;  "does  not  the 
astronomer  foretell  eclipses,  and  calculate  the  orbits  of 
the  planets,  and  has  he  not  verified  predictions  concern- 
ing their  several  motions?" 

"Yes ;  but  this  is  simply  a  study  of  passing  events. 
The  astronomer  is  no  more  capable  of  grasping  an  idea 
that  reaches  into  an  explanation  of  the  origin  of  motion 
than  the  chemist  or  physicist,  from  exact  scientific  data, 
can  account  for  the  creation  of  matter.  Give  him  any 
amount  of  material  at  rest,  and  he  cannot  conceive  of  any 
method  by  which  motion  can  disturb  any  part  of  it,  unless 
such  motion  be  mass  motion  communicated  from  without 
or  molecular  motion,  already  existing  within.  He  ac- 
counts for  the  phases  of  present  motion  in  heavenly 
bodies,  not  for  the  primal  cause  of  the  actual  movements 
or  intrinsic  properties  they  possess.  He  can  neither 
originate  a  theory  that  will  permit  of  motion  creating 
itself,  and  imparting  itself  to  quiescent  matter,  nor 
imagine  how  an  atom  of  quiescent  matter  can  be  moved, 
unless  motion  from  without  be  communicated  thereto. 
The  astronomer,  I  assert,  can  neither  from  any  data  at 
his  command  postulate  nor  prove  the  beginning  nor  the 
end  of  the  reverberating  motion  that  exists  in  his  solar 
system,  which  is  itself  the  fragment  of  a  system  that  is 
circulating  and  revolving  in  and  about  itself,  and  in 
which,  since  the  birth  of  man,  the  universe  he  knows 
has  not  passed  the  first  milestone  in  the  road  that  uni- 
verse is  travelling  in  space  immensity. 

"The  mathematician  starts  a  line  from  an  imaginary 
point  that  he  informs  us  exists  theoretically  without  oc- 
cupying any  space,  which  is  a  contradiction  of  terms 
according  to  his  human  acceptation  of  knowledge  derived 
from  scientific  experiment,  if  science  is  based  on  verified 


Vitalized  Darkness  271 

facts.  He  assumes  that  straight  hnes  exist,  which  is  a 
necessity  for  his  calculation ;  but  such  a  line  he  has  never 
made.  Even  the  beam  of  sunshine,  radiating  through  a 
clear  atmosphere  or  a  cloud  bank,  widens,  deflects  and 
contracts  as  it  progresses  through  the  various  mediums 
of  air  and  vapor  currents,  and  if  it  is  ever  spreading  and 
deflecting  can  it  be  straight?  He  begins  his  study  in  the 
unknown,  it  ends  with  the  unknowable. 

"The  biologist  can  conceive  of  no  rational,  scientific 
beginning  to  life  of  plant  or  animal,  and  men  of  science 
must  admit  the  fact.  Whenever  we  turn  our  attention  to 
Nature's  laws  and  Nature's  substance,  we  find  man  sur- 
rounded by  the  infinity  that  obscures  the  origin  and 
covers  the  end.  But  perserverance,  study  of  Nature's 
forces,  and  comparison  of  the  past  with  the  present,  will 
yet  clarify  human  knowledge  and  make  plain  much  of 
this  seemingly  mysterious,  but  never  will  man  reach  the 
beginning  or  the  end.  The  course  of  human  education, 
to  this  day,  has  been  mostly  materialistic,  although, 
together  with  the  study  of  matter,  there  has  been  more 
or  less  attention  given  to  its  moving  spirit.  Newton  was 
the  dividing  light  in  scientific  thought ;  he  stepped  be- 
tween the  reasonings  of  the  past  and  the  provings  of  the 
present,  and  introduced  problems  that  gave  birth  to  a 
new  scientific  tendency,  a  change  from  the  study  of  mat- 
ter from  the  material  side  to  that  of  force  and  matter,  but 
his  thought  has  since  been  carried  out  in  a  mode  too 
realistic  by  far.  The  study  of  material  bodies  has  given 
way,  it  is  true,  in  a  few  cases  to  the  study  of  the  spirit  of 
matter,  and  evolution  is  beginning  to  teach  men  that 
matter  is  crude.  As  a  result,  thought  and  reflection  will 
in  its  sequence  yet  show  that  modifications  of  energy  ex- 
pression are  paramount  to  inert  matter.  This  work  is 
not  lost,  however,  for  the  consideration  of  the  nature  of 
sensible  material  is  preliminary  and  necessary  to  pro- 
gression (as  the  life  of  the  savage  prepares  the  way  for 
that  of  the  cultivated  student),  and  is  a  meagre  and 
primitive  child's  effort,  compared  with  the  richness  of  the 


272  Etidorhpa 

study  in  unseen  energy  expressions  that  are  linked  with 
matter,  of  which  men  will  yet  learn." 

"I  comprehend  some  of  this,"  I  replied ;  "but  I  am 
neither  prepared  to  assent  to  nor  dissent  from  your  con- 
clusions, and  my  mind  is  not  clear  as  to  whether  your 
logic  is  good  or  bad.  I  am  more  ready  to  speak  plainly 
about  my  own  peculiar  situation  than  to  become  absorbed 
in  abstruse  arguments  in  science,  and  I  marvel  more  at 
the  soft  light  that  is  here  surrounding  us  than  at  the 
metaphysical  reasoning  in  which  you  indulge." 

"The  child  ignorant  of  letters  wonders  at  the  resources 
of  those  who  can  spell  and  read,  and,  in  like  manner, 
many  obscure  natural  phenomena  are  marvellous  to  man 
only  because  of  his  ignorance.  You  do  not  comprehend 
the  fact  that  sunlight  is  simply  a  matter-bred  expression, 
an  outburst  of  interrupted  energy,  and  that  the  modi- 
fication this  energy  undergoes  makes  it  visible  or  sensible 
to  man.  What,  think  you,  becomes  of  the  flood  of  light 
energy  that  unceasingly  flows  from  the  sun?  For  ages, 
for  an  eternity,  it  has  bathed  this  earth  and  seemingly 
streamed  into  space,  and  space,  it  would  seem,  must  have 
long  since  have  been  filled  with  it,  if,  as  men  believe, 
space  contains  energy  of  any  description.  Man  may  say 
the  earth  casts  the  amount  intercepted  by  it  back  into 
space,  and  yet  does  not  your  science  teach  that  the  great 
bulk  of  the  earth  is  an  absorber,  and  a  poor  radiator  of 
light  and  heat  ?  What  think  you,  I  repeat,  becomes  of  the 
torrent  of  light  and  heat  and  other  forces  that  radiate 
from  the  sun,  the  flood  that  strikes  the  earth?  It  dis- 
appears, and,  in  the  economy  of  Nature,  is  not  replaced 
by  any  known  force  or  any  known  motion  of  matter. 
Think  you  that  earth  substance  really  presents  an 
obstacle  to  the  passage  of  the  sun's  energy?  Is  it  not 
probable  that  most  of  this  light-producing  essence,  as  a 
subtle  fluid,  passes  through  the  surface  of  the  earth  and 
into  its  interior,  as  light  does  through  space,  and  returns 
thence  to  the  sun  again,  in  a  condition  not  discernible  by 
man?"     He  grasped  my  arm  and  squeezed  it  as  though 


Vitalized  Darkness  273 

to  emphasize  the  words  to  follow.  "You  have  used  the 
term  sunshine  freely;  tell  me  what  is  sunshine?  Ah! 
you  do  not  reply ;  well,  what  evidence  have  you  to  show 
that  sunshine  (heat  and  light)  is  not  earth-bred,  a  con- 
dition that  exists  locally  only,  the  result  of  contact  be- 
tween matter  and  some  unknown  force  expression? 
What  reason  have  you  for  accepting  that,  to  other  forms 
unknown  and  yet  transparent  to  this  energy,  your  sun- 
shine may  not  be  as  intangible  as  the  ether  of  space  is  to 
man  ?  What  reason  have  you  to  believe  that  a  force  tor- 
rent is  not  circulating  to  and  from  the  sun  and  earth, 
inappreciable  to  man,  excepting  the  mere  trace  of  this 
force  which,  modified  by  contact  action  with  matter  ap- 
pears as  heat,  light  and  other  force  expressions?  How 
can  I,  if  this  is  true,  in  consideration  of  your  ignorance, 
enter  into  details  explanatory  of  the  action  that  takes 
place  between  matter  and  a  portion  of  this  force,  whereby 
in  the  earth,  first  at  the  surface,  darkness  is  produced, 
and  then  deeper  down  an  earth  light  that  man  can  per- 
ceive by  the  sense  of  sight,  such  as  you  now  realize?  I 
will  only  say  that  this  luminous  appearance  about  us  is 
produced  by  a  natural  law,  whereby  the  flood  of  energy, 
invisible  to  man,  a  something  clothed  now  under  the 
name  of  darkness,  after  streaming  into  the  crust  sub- 
stance of  the  earth,  is  at  its  depth,  revivified,  and  then 
is  made  apparent  to  mortal  eye,  to  be  modified  again  as 
it  emerges  from  the  opposite  earth  crust,  but  not  an- 
nihilated. For  my  vision,  however,  this  central  light  is 
not  a  necessity ;  my  physical  and  mental  development  is 
such  that  the  energy  of  darkness  is  communicable ;  I  can 
respond  to  its  touches  on  my  nerves,  and  hence  I  can 
guide  you  in  this  dark  cavern.    I  am  all  eye." 

"Ah !"  I  exclaimed,  "that  reminds  me  of  a  remark 
made  by  my  former  guide,  who,  referring  to  the  instinct 
of  animals,  spoke  of  that  as  a  natural  power  undeveloped 
in  man.  Is  it  true  that  by  mental  cultivation  a  new  sense 
can  be  evolved  whereby  darkness  may  become  as  light?" 

"Yes ;  that  which  you  call  light  is  a  form  of  sensible 


274  Etidorhpa 

energy  to  which  the  faculties  of  animals  who  live  on  the 
surface  of  the  earth  have  become  adapted,  through  their 
organs  of  sight.  The  sun's  energy  is  modified  when  it 
strikes  the  surface  of  the  earth ;  part  is  reflected,  but  most 
of  it  passes  onward  into  the  earth's  substance,  in  an  al- 
tered or  disturbed  condition.  Animal  organisms  within 
the  earth  must  possess  a  peculiar  development  to  utilize 
it  under  its  new  form,  but  such  a  sense  is  really  possessed 
in  a  degree  by  some  creatures  known  to  men.  There  is 
consciousness  behind  consciousness ;  there  are  grades  and 
depths  of  consciousness.  Earth  worms  and  some  fishes 
and  reptiles  in  underground  streams  (lower  organ- 
izations, men  call  them)  do  not  use  the  organ  of  sight, 
but  recognize  objects,  seek  their  food,  and  flee  from  their 
enemies." 

"They  have  no  eyes,"  I  exclaimed,  forgetting  that  I 
spoke  to  an  eyeless  being;  "how  can  they  see?" 

"You  should  reflect  that  man  cannot  ofl"er  a  satisfac- 
tory explanation  of  the  fact  that  he  can  see  with  his  eyes. 
In  one  respect  these  so-called  lower  creatures  are  higher 
in  the  scale  of  life  than  man  is,  for  they  see  (appreciate) 
without  eyes.  The  surfaces  of  their  bodies  really  are 
sources  of  perception  and  seats  of  consciousness.  Man 
must  yet  learn  to  see  with  his  skin,  taste  with  his  fingers, 
and  hear  with  the  surface  of  his  body.  The  dissected 
nerve,  or  the  pupil  of  man's  eye,  offers  to  the  physiolog- 
ist no  explanation  of  its  intrinsic  power.  Is  not  man  un- 
fortunate in  having  to  risk  so  much  on  so  frail  an  organ  ? 
The  physiologist  cannot  tell  why  or  how  the  nerve  of  the 
tongue  can  distinguish  between  bitter  and  sweet,  or  convey 
any  impression  of  taste,  or  why  the  nerve  of  the  ear  com- 
municates sound,  or  the  nerve  of  the  eye  communicates 
the  impression  of  sight.  There  is  an  impassable  barrier 
behind  all  forms  of  nerve  impressions,  that  neither  the 
microscope  nor  other  methods  of  investigation  can  help 
the  reasoning  senses  of  man  to  remove.  The  void  that 
separates  the  pulp  of  the  material  nerve  from  conscious- 
ness is  broader  than  the  solar  universe,  for  even  from 


Vitalized  Darkness  275 

the  most  distant  known  star  we  can  imagine  the  never- 
ending  flight  of  a  ray  of  light,  that  has  once  started  on 
its  travels  into  space.  Can  any  man  outline  the  bridge 
that  connects  the  intellect  with  nerve,  or  brain  or  mind, 
or  with  any  form  of  matter  ?  The  fact  that  the  surface  of 
the  bodies  of  some  animals  is  capable  of  performing  the 
same  functions  for  these  animals  that  the  eye  of  man  per- 
forms for  him,  is  not  more  mysterious  than  is  the  function 
of  that  eye  itself.  The  term  darkness  is  an  expression  used 
to  denote  the  fact  that  to  the  brain  which  governs  the 
eye  of  man,  what  man  calls  the  absence  of  light,  is  un- 
recognizable. If  men  were  more  magnanimous  and  less 
egotistical,  they  would  open  their  minds  to  the  fact  that 
some  animals  really  possess  certain  senses  that  are  better 
developed  than  they  are  in  man.  The  teachers  of  men 
too  often  tell  the  little  they  know  and  neglect  the  great 
unseen.  The  cat  tribe,  some  night  birds,  and  many  rep- 
tiles can  see  better  in  darkness  than  in  daylight.  Let  man 
compare  with  the  nerve  expanse  of  his  own  eye  that  of 
the  highly  developed  eye  of  any  such  creature,  and  he 
will  understand  that  the  difference  is  one  of  brain  or  in- 
tellect, and  not  altogether  one  of  optical  vision  surface. 
When  men  are  able  to  explain  how  light  can  affect  the 
nerves  of  their  own  eyes  and  produce  such  an  effect  on 
distant  brain  tissues  as  to  bring  to  his  senses  objects  that 
he  is  not  touching,  he  may  be  able  to  explain  how  the 
energy  in  darkness  can  affect  the  nerve  of  the  eye  in  the 
owl  and  impress  vision  on  the  brain  of  that  creature. 
Should  not  man's  inferior  sense  of  light  lead  him  to  ques- 
tion if,  instead  of  deficient  visual  power,  there  be  not  a 
deficiency  of  the  brain  capacity  of  man?  Instead  of  ac- 
cepting that  the  eye  of  man  is  incapable  of  receiving  the 
impression  of  night  energy,  and  making  no  endeavor  to 
improve  himself  in  the  direction  of  his  imperfection,  man 
should  reflect  whether  or  not  his  brain  may,  by  proper 
cultivation  or  artificial  stimulus,  be  yet  developed  so  as 
to  receive  yet  deeper  nerve  impressions,  thereby  chang- 
ing darkness  into  daylight.     Until  man  can  explain  the 


276  Etidorhpa 

modus  operandi  of  the  senses  he  now  possesses,  he  cannot 
consistently  question  the  existence  of  a  different  sight 
power  in  other  beings,  and  existing  conditions  that  can- 
not be  questioned  should  lead  him  to  hope  for  a  yet 
higher  development  in  himself." 

"This  dissertation  is  interesting,  very,"  I  said.  "Al- 
thovigh  inclined  toward  agnosticism,  my  ideas  of  a  pos- 
sible future  in  consciousness  that  lies  before  mankind  are 
broadened.  I  therefore  accept  your  reasoning,  perhaps 
because  I  cannot  refute  it." 


CHAPTER   XLVI. 


THE  FOOD  OF   MAN. 


(Wherein  the  captor  guide  of  I-Am-The-Man  teaches  that 
matter  is  not  food,  but  a  carrier  of  energy  which  supports  life.) 

"This  leads  me  to  remark,"  answered  the  eyeless  seer, 
"that  you  speak  without  due  consideration  of  previous 
experience.  You  are,  or  should  be,  aware  of  other  and 
as  marked  differences  in  food  products  of  upper  earth, 
induced  by  climate,  soil  and  cultivation.  The  potato 
which,  next  to  wheat,  rice,  or  corn,  you  know  supplies 
nations  of  men  with  starchy  food,  originated  as  a  wild 
weed  in  South  America  and  Mexico,  where  it  yet  exists 
as  a  small,  watery,  marble-like  tuber,  and  its  nearest 
kindred,  botanically,  is  still  poisonous.  The  luscious 
apple  reached  its  present  excellence  by  slow  stages  from 
knotty,  wild,  astringent  fruit,  to  which  it  again  returns 
when  it  escapes  from  cultivation.  The  cucumber  is  a 
near  cousin  of  the  griping,  medicinal  cathartic  bitter- 
apple,  or  colocynth,  and  occasionally  partakes  yet  of  the 
properties  that  result  from  that  unfortunate  alliance,  as 
too  often  exemplified  to  persons  who  do  not  peel  it  deep 
enough  to  remove  the  bitter,  cathartic  principle  that 
exists  near  the  surface.  Oranges,  in  their  wild  con- 
dition, are  bitter,  and  are  used  principally  as  medicinal 
agents.  Asparagus  was  once  a  weed,  native  to  the  salty 
edges  of  the  sea,  and  as  this  weed  has  become  a  food,  so 
it  is  possible  for  other  wild  weeds  yet  to  do.  Buckwheat 
is  a  weed  proper,  and  not  a  cereal,  and  birds  have  learned 
that  the  seeds  of  many  other  weeds  are  even  preferable 
to  wheat.  The  wild  parsnip  is  a  poison,  and  the  parsnip 
of  cultivation  relapses  quickly  into  its  natural  condition 
if  allowed  to  escape  and  roam  again.     The  root  of  the 


278  Etidorhpa 

tapioca  plant  contains  a  volatile  poison,  and  is  deadly ; 
but  when  that  same  root  is  properly  prepared,  it  becomes 
the  wholesome  food,  tapioca.  The  nut  of  the  African 
anacardium  (cashew  nut)  contains  a  nourishing  kernel 
that  is  eaten  as  food  by  the  natives,  and  yet  a  drop  of  the 
juice  of  the  oily  shell  placed  on  the  skin  will  blister  and 
produce  terrible  inflammations ;  only  those  expert  in  the 
removal  of  the  kernel  dare  partake  of  the  food.  The 
berry  of  the  herhcris  vulgaris  is  a  pleasant  acid  fruit ;  the 
bough  that  bears  it  is  intensely  bitter.  Such  examples 
might  be  multiplied  indefinitely,  but  I  have  cited  enough 
to  illustrate  the  fact  that  neither  the  difiference  in  size 
and  structure  of  the  species  in  the  mushroom  forest 
through  which  we  are  passing,  nor  the  conditions  of  these 
bodies,  as  compared  with  those  you  formerly  knew,  need 
excite  your  astonishment.  Cultivate  a  potato  in  your 
former  home  so  that  the  growing  tuber  is  exposed  to 
sunshine,  and  it  becomes  green  and  acrid,  and  strongly 
virulent.  Cultivate  the  spores  of  the  intra-earth  fungi 
about  us,  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  although  now  all 
parts  of  the  plants  are  edible,  the  species  will  degenerate, 
and  may  even  become  poisonous.  They  lose  their  flavor 
under  such  unfavorable  conditions,  and  although  some 
species  still  retain  vitality  enough  to  resist  poisonous  de- 
generation, they  dwindle  in  size,  and  adapt  themselves 
to  new  and  unnatural  conditions.  They  have  all  degen- 
erated. This  fungoid  forest  could  feed  a  multitude.  It  is 
probable  that  in  the  time  to  come,  when  man  deserts  the 
bleak  earth  surface,  as  he  will  some  day  be  forced  to  do, 
as  has  been  the  case  in  frozen  planets  that  are  not  now  in- 
habited on  the  outer  crust,  nations  will  march  through 
these  spaces  on  their  way  from  the  dreary  outside  earth 
to  the  delights  of  the  salubrious  inner  sphere.  Here  then, 
when  that  day  of  necessity  appears,  as  it  surely  will  come 
under  inflexible  climatic  changes  that  will  control  the 
destiny  of  outer  earth  life,  these  constantly  increasing 
stores,  adapted  to  nourish  humanity,  will  be  found  ac- 
cumulated and  ready  for  food.     You  have  already  eaten 


The  Food  of  Man  279 

of  them,  for  the  variety  of  food  with  which  I  suppHed 
you  has  been  selected  from  different  portions  of  these 
nourishing  products  which,  flavored  and  salted,  ready 
for  use  as  food,  stand  intermediate  between  animal  and 
vegetable,  supplying  the  place  of  both." 

My  instructor  placed  both  hands  on  my  shoulders,  and 
in  silence  I  stood  gazing  intently  into  his  face.  Then, 
in  a  smooth,  captivating,  entrancing  manner,  he  con- 
tinued : 

"Can  you  not  see  that  food  is  not  matter?  The 
material  part  of  bread  is  carbon,  water,  gas  and  earth ; 
the  material  part  of  fat  is  charcoal  and  gas ;  the  material 
part  of  flesh  is  water  and  gas ;  the  material  part  of  fruits 
is  mostly  water  with  a  little  charcoal  and  gas.*  The 
material  constituents  of  all  foods  are  plentiful,  they 
abound  everywhere,  and  yet  amid  the  unlimited,  un- 
organized materials  that  0*0  to  form  foods,  man  would 
starve. 

"Give  a  healthy  man  a  diet  made  of  charcoal,  water, 
salts,  and  air ;  say  to  him,  'Bread  contains  no  other  sub- 
stance, here  is  bread,  the  material  food  of  man,  live  on 
this  food,'  and  yet  the  man,  if  he  eat  of  these,  will  die. 
So  with  all  other  foods ;  give  man  the  unorganized 
materialistic  constituents  of  food  in  unlimited  amounts, 
and  starvation  results.  No !  matter  is  not  food,  but  a 
carrier  of  food." 

"What  is  food?" 

"Sunshine.  The  grain  of  wheat  is  a  food  by  virtue  of 
the  sunshine  fixed  within  it.  The  flesh  of  animals,  all 
foods  of  living  creatures,  are  simply  carriers  of  sunshine 
energy.  Break  out  the  sunshine,  and  you  destroy  the 
food,  although  the  material  remains.  The  growing  plant 
locks  the  sunshine  in  its  cells,  and  the  living  animal  takes 


*By  the  term  gas,  it  is  evident  that  hydrogen  and  nitrogen  were 
designated,  and  yet,  since  the  instructor  insists  that  other  gases 
form  part  of  the  atmosphere  (discovered  after  Etidorhpa  was 
published),  so  he  may  consistently  imply  that  unknown  gases  are 
parts  of  food. — J.  U.  L. 


2  8o  Etidorhpa 

it  out  again.  Hence  it  is  that  after  the  sunshine  of  any 
food  is  Hberated  during  the  metamorphosis  of  the  tissues 
of  an  animal,  ahhough  the  material  part  of  the  food  re- 
mains, it  is  no  longer  a  food,  but  becomes  a  poison,  and 
then  if  it  is  not  promptly  eliminated  from  the  animal, 
it  will  destroy  the  life  of  the  animal.  This  material  be- 
comes then  injurious,  but  it  is  still  material. 

"The  farmer  plants  a  seed  in  the  soil,  the  sunshine 
sprouts  it,  nourishes  the  growing  plant,  and  during  the 
season  locks  itself  to  and  within  its  tissues,  binding  the 
otherwise  dead  materials  of  that  tissue  together  into  an 
organized  structure.  Animals  eat  these  structures,  break 
them  from  higher  to  lower  compounds,  and  in  doing  so 
live  on  the  stored-up  sunshine  and  then  excrete  the 
worthless  material  side  of  the  food.  The  farmer  spreads 
these  excluded  substances  over  the  earth  again  to  once 
more  take  up  the  sunshine  in  the  coming  plant  organ- 
ization, but  not  until  it  does  once  more  lock  in  its  cells 
the  energy   of  sunshine  can  it  be  a  food  for  that  animal." 

"Is  manure  a  food?"  he  abruptlv  asked. 

"No." 

"Is  not  manure  matter?" 

"Yes." 

"May  it  not  become  a  food  again,  as  the  part  of  an- 
other plant,  when  another  season  passes?" 

"Yes." 

"In  what  else  than  energy  (sunshine)  does  it  differ 
from  food?" 

"Water  is  a  necessity,"  I  said. 

"And  locked  in  each  molecule  of  water  there  is  a  mine 
of  sunshine.  Liberate  suddenly  the  sun  energy^  from  the 
gases  of  the  ocean  held  in  subjection  thereby,  and  the 
earth  would  disappear  in  an  explosion  that  would  re- 
verberate throughout  the  universe.  The  water  that  you 
truly  claim  to  be  necessary  to  the  life  of  man  is  itself 
water  by  the  grace  of  this  same  sun,  for  without  its  heat 
water  would  be  ice,  dry  as  dust.  Tis  the  sun  that  gives 
life  and  motion  to  animate  creatures  and  inanimated  sub- 


The  Food  of  Man  281 

stances ;  he  who  doubts  distrusts  his  Creator.  Food  and 
drink  are  only  carriers  of  bits  of  assimilable  sunshine. 
When  the  fire  worshippers  kneeled  to  their  god,  the  sun, 
they  worshipped  the  great  food  reservoir  of  man.  When 
they  drew  the  quivering  entrails  from  the  body  of  a 
sacrificed  victim  they  gave  back  to  their  God  a  spark  of 
sunshine — it  was  due  sooner  or  later.  They  builded  well 
in  thus  recognizing  the  source  of  all  life,  and  yet  they 
acted  badly,  for  God  asks  no  premature  sacrifice,  the  in- 
evitable must  soon  occur,  and  as  all  organic  life  comes 
from  that  Sun-God,  so  back  to  that  Creator  the  sun- 
spark  must  fly." 

"But  they  are  heathen ;  there  is  a  God  beyond  their 
narrow  conception  of  God." 

"As  there  is  also  a  God  in  the  Beyond,  past  your  idea 
of  God.  Perhaps  to  beings  of  higher  mentalities,  we  may 
be  heathen ;  but  even  if  this  is  so,  duty  demands  that  we 
revere  the  God  within  our  intellectural  sphere.  Let  us  not 
digress  further;  and  again  I  say  to  you  the  food  of  man 
and  the  organic  life  of  man  is  sunshine." 

He  ceased,  and  I  reflected  upon  his  words.  All  he  had 
said  seemed  so  consistent  that  I  could  not  deny  its  plaus- 
ibility, and  yet  it  still  appeared  altogether  unlikely  as 
viewed  in  the  light  of  my  previous  earth  knowledge.  I 
did  not  quite  comprehend  all  the  semi-scientific  ex- 
pressions, but  was  at  least  certain  that  I  could  neither 
disprove  nor  verify  his  propositions.  My  thoughts 
wandered  aimlessly,  and  I  found  myself  questioning 
whether  man  could  be  prevailed  upon  to  live  contentedly 
in  situations  such  as  I  was  now  passing  through.  In 
company  with  my  learned  and  philosophical  but  fantas- 
tically created  guardian  and  monitor,  I  moved  on. 


CHAPTER    XLVIL 


THE    UNBIDDEN    GUEST    PROVES    HIS    STATEMENT. 


(  In  whicli  the  unwelcome  guest,  I-Am-The-Man,  confronts 
Llewellyn  Drury  with  some  unexpected  experiments.) 

On  the  following  evening  my  persevering  teacher  ap- 
peared punctually,  and  displayed  a  few  glass  tubes  and 
some  blotting  or  bibulous  paper. 

"I  will  first  show  you  that  liquids  may  change  their 
levels  in  seeming  opposition  to  the  laws  of  men,  not  con- 
trary to  Nature's  laws ;  however,  let  me  lead  to  the  ex- 
periments by  a  statement  of  facts,  that,  if  you  question, 
you  can  investigate  at  any  time.  If  two  vessels  of  water 
be  connected  by  a  channel  from  the  bottom  of  each,  the 
water  surfaces  will  come  to  a  common  level." 

He  selected  a  curved  glass  tube,  and  poured  water  into 
it.  The  water  assumed  the  position 
shown  in  Figure  ii. 

"You  have  not  shown  me  any- 
thing new,"  I  said ;  "my  text-books 
taught  me  this." 

"True,  I  have  but  exhibited  that 
which  is  the  foundation  of  your 
philosophy  regarding  the  surface  of 
liquids.     Let  me  proceed  : 

"If  we  pour  a  solution  of  com- 
mon salt  into  such  a  U  tube,  as  I  do 
now,  you  perceive  that  it  also  rises 
to  the  same  level  in  both  ends." 
"Of  course  it  does." 

"Do  not  interrupt  me.  Into  one  arm  of  the  tube  con- 
taining the  brine  I  now  carefully  pour  pure  water.  You 
observe  that  the  surfaces  do  not  seek  the  same  level." 
(Figure  12.) 

"Certainly  not,"  I  said ;  "the  weight  of  the  liquid  in 


Fig.  II.— a   a,  water     in 
tube  seeks  a  level. 


Unbidden  Guest  Proves  his  Statement     283 


^^==? 


Fig. 


12.— A,    surface 
water, 
surface 


B, 


of 


of 


brine. 


each  arm  is  the  same,  however ;  the  columns  balance  each 
other." 

"Exactly ;  and  on  this  assumption  you  base  your  as- 
sertion that  connected  liquids  of  the 
same  gravity  must  always  seek  a 
common  level,  but  you  see  from  this 
test  that  if  two  liquids  of  differ- 
ent gravities  be  connected  from  be- 
neath, the  surface  of  the  lighter  one 
will  assume  a  higher  level  than  the 
surface  of  the  heavier." 

"Agreed ;  however  tortuous  the 
channel  that  connects  them,  such 
must  be  the  case." 

"Is  it  not  supposable,"  said  he, 
"that  there  might  be  two  pockets 
in  the  earth,  one  containmg 
salt  water,  the  other  fresh  water, 

which,  if  joined  together,  might  be  represented  by  such 
a  figure  as  this,  wherein  the  water  surface  would  be 
raised  above  that  of  the  brine?  And  he  drew  upon  the 
paper  the  accompanying  diagram.     (Figure  13.) 

"Yes,"  I  admitted ; 
"providing,  of  course, 
there  was  an  equal  pres- 
sure of  air  on  the  surface 
of  each." 

"Now  I  shall  draw  a 
figure  in  which  one  pocket 
is  above  the  other, 
and  ask  you  to  imagine 
that  in  the  lower  pocket 
we  have  pure  water,  in 
the  upper  pocket  brine 
(Figure  14)  ;  can  you  bring  any  theory  of  your  law  to 
bear  upon  these  liquids  so  that  by  connecting  them  to- 
gether the  water  will  rise  and  run  into  the  brine  ?" 

"No,"  I  replied ;  "connect  them,  and  then  the  brine  will 
flow  into  the  water." 


Fig.  13. — B,  surface  of  brine. 
W,  surface  of  water. 
S,   sand  strata  connecting 
them. 


284 


Etidorhpa 


Fig.  14. 


Fig. 


14. 


"Upon  the  contrary,"  he  said ;  "connect  them,  as  in- 
numerable cavities  in  the  earth  are  joined,  and  the  water 

will  flow  into  the  brine." 
"The  assertion  is  op- 
posed to  applied  philos- 


ophy    and     common 
sense,"  I  said. 

"Where  ignorance  is 
bliss,  'tis  folly  to  be 
wise,  you  know  to  be  a 
maxim  with  mortals,"  he 
replied  ;  "but  I  must  par- 
don you ;  your  dogmatic 
education  narrows  your 
judgment.  I  now  will 
prove  you  in  error." 

He  took  from  his 
pocket  two  slender  glass 
tubes,  about  an  eighth  of 
an  inch  in  bore  and 
four  inches  in  length, 
each  closed  at  one  end,  and  stood  them  in  a  perforated 
cork  that  he  placed  upon  the  table. 

Into  one  tube  he  poured  water,  and  then 
dissolving  some  salt  in  a  cup,  poured  brine 
into  the  other,  filling  both  nearly  to  the  top. 
(Figure  15.)  Next  he  produced  a  short 
curved  glass  tube,  to  each  end  of  which  was 
attached  a  strip  of  flexible  rubber  tubing. 
Then,  from  a  piece  of  blotting-paper  such  as 
is  used  to  blot  ink,  he  cut  a  narrow  strip  and 
passed  it  through  the  arrangement,  forming 
the  apparatus  represented  by  Figure  16. 

Then  he  inserted  the  two  tubes  (Figure 
15)  into  the  rubber,  the  extremities  of  the 
paper  being  submerged  in  the  liquids,  pro- 
ducing a  combination  that  rested  upright  in 
the  cork,  as  shown  by  Figure   17. 

The  surfaces  of  both  liquids  were  at  once  lowered  by 


-B,  brine. 
W,  water. 
S,  sand  stratum. 
(The  difference  in  altitude   is    some- 
what   exaggerated    to    make  the    phe. 
nomenon  clear.    A  syphon  might  result 
under  such  circumstances.— L.) 


Fig.  15. 

A,    A,     glass 
tubes. 

F,     brine     sur- 
face. 

E.    water    sur- 
face. 


Unbidden  Guest  Proves  his  Statement     285 


B,  curved  glass 

tube. 
C     C,      rubber 

tubes. 

D   D  D,    bibu- 
lous paper. 


reason  of  the  suction  of  the  bibulous  paper,  the  water 
decreasing  most  rapidly,  and  soon  the  creeping  liquids 
met  by  absorption  in  the  paper,  the  point  of 
contact,  as  the  liquids  met,  being  plainly  dis- 
cernible. Now  the  old  man  gently  slid  the 
tubes  vipon  each  other,  raising  one  a  little, 
so  as  to  bring  the  surfaces  of  the  two  liquids 
exactly  on  a  plane  ;  he  then  marked  the  glass 
at  the  surface  of  each  with  a  pen. 

"Observe  the  result,"  he  remarked  as  he 
replaced  the  tubes  in  the  cork  with  their 
liquid  surfaces  on  a  line. 

Together  we  sat  and  watched,  and  soon  it 
became  apparent  that  the  surface  of  the 
water  had  decreased  in  height  as  compared 
with  that  of  the  brine.  By  fixing  my  gaze  on 
the  inkmark  on  theglass  I  also  observedthat 

the  brine  in  the  opposing  tube  was  rising. 
"I  will  call  to-morrow  evening,"  he  said, 
"and  we  shall  then  discover  which  is  true, 
man's  theory  or  Nature's  practice." 

Within  a  short  time  enough  of  the  water 
in  the  tube  had  been  transferred  to  the  brine 
to  raise  its  surface  considerably  above  its 
former  level,  the  surface  of  the  water  being 
lowered  to  a  greater  degree.  (Figure  18.) 
I  was  discomfited  at  the  result,  and  upon  his 
appearance  next  evening  peevishly  said  to 
the  experimenter : 

"I  do  not  know  that  this  is  fair." 
"Have  I  not  demonstrated  that,  by  prop- 
erly connecting  the  liquids,  the  lighter  flows 
into  the  heavier,  and  raises  itself  above  the 
former  surface  ?" 

"Yes ;  but  there  is  no  porous  paper  in  the 
earth." 

"True ;  I  used  this  medium  because  it  was 
convenient.     There  are,  however,  vast  sub- 


FlG.    17. 

A     A,      glass 

tubes. 
B,  curved  glass 

tube. 
C     C,     rubber 

tubes. 

D,  bi  b  ul  o  u  s 
paper. 

E,  water    sur" 
face. 

F,  brine      sur- 
face. 


286 


Etidorhpa 


terranean  beds  of  porous  materials,  stone,  satid,  clay, 
various  other  earths,  many  of  which  will  answer  the 
same  purpose.  By  perfectly  natural  laws,  on  a  large 
scale,  such  molecular  transfer  of  liquids  is 
constantly  taking  place  within  the  earth,  and 
in  these  phenomena  the  law  of  gravitation 
seems  ignored,  and  the  rule  which  man  be- 
lieves from  narrow  experience  governs  the 
flow  of  liquids  is  reversed.  The  arched  por- 
ous medium  always  transfers  the  lighter 
liquid  into  the  heavier  until  its  surface  is 
raised  considerably  above  that  of  the  light 
one.  In  the  same  way  you  can  demonstrate 
that  alcohol  passes  into  water,  sulphuric 
ether  into  alcohol,  and  other  miscible  light 
liquids  into  those  heavier." 

"I  have  seen  you  exemplify  the  statement 
on  a  small  scale,  with  water  and  brine,  and 
cannot  question  but  that  it  is  true  on  a  large 
one,"  I  replied. 
"So  you  admit  that  the  assertion  governing  the  sur- 
faces of  liquids  is  true  only  when  the  liquids  are  con- 
nected from  beneath.     In  other  words,  your  thought  is 
one-sided,  as  science  thought  often  is." 
"Yes." 

"Now  as  to  the  beds  of  salt  deep  within  the  earth. 
You  are  also  mistaken  concerning  their  origin.  The 
water  of  the  ocean  that  runs  through  an  open  channel 
from  the  one  side  may  flow  into  an  underground  lake, 
that  by  means  of  the  contact  action  (suction)  of  the  over- 
lying and  surrounding  strata  is  being  continually 
em.ptied  of  its  water,  but  not  its  salt.  Thus  by  absorption 
of  water  the  brine  of  the  lake  becomes  in  time  saturated, 
starting  crystallization  regularly  over  the  floor  and  sides 
of  the  basin.  Eventually  the  entire  cavity  is  filled  with 
salt,  and  a  solid  mass  of  rock  salt  remains.  If,  however, 
before  the  lake  becomes  solid,  the  brine  supply  is  shut  off 
by  some  natural   cause,  as  by  salt   crystals   closing  the 


Fig.  i8. 

E,  water    sur- 
face. 

F,  brine     sur- 
face. 


Unbidden  Guest  Proves  his  Statement     287 

passage  thereto,  the  underground  lake  is  at  last  drained 
of  its  water,  the  salt  crystallizing  over  the  bottom,  and 
upon  the  cliffs,  leaving  great  crevices  through  the  saline 
deposits,  as  chances  to  have  been  the  case  with  the  salt 
formations  through  which  I  passed  with  my  guide,  and 
have  recently  described  to  you." 

"Even  now  I  have  my  doubts  as  to  the  correctness  of 
your  explanations,  especially  concerning  the  liquid  sur- 
faces." 

"They  are  facts,  however ;  liquids  capable  of  being 
mixed,  if  connected  by  porous  arches  (bibulous  paper  is 
convenient  for  illustrating  by  experiment)  reverse  the 
rule  men  have  accepted  to  explain  the  phenomena  of 
liquid  equilibrium,  for  I  repeat,  the  lighter  one  rushes 
into  that  which  is  heavier,  and  the  surface  of  the  heavier 
liquid  rises.  You  can  try  the  experiment  with  alcohol 
and  water,  taking  precautions  to  prevent  evaporation,  or 
you  can  vary  the  experiment  with  solutions  of  various 
salts  of  different  densities ;  the  greater  the  difference  in 
gravity  between  the  two  liquids,  the  more  rapid  will  be 
the  flow  of  the  lighter  one  into  the  heavier,  and  after 
equilibrium  the  greater  will  be  the  contrast  in  the  final 
height  of  the  resultant  liquid  surfaces." 

"Men  will  yet  explain  this  effect  by  natural  laws,"  I 
said. 

"Yes,"  he  answered ;  "when  they  learn  the  facts ;  and 
they  will  then  be  able  to  solve  certain  phenomena  con- 
nected with  dift'usion  processes  that  they  cannot  now  un- 
derstand. Did  I  not  tell  you  that  after  the  fact  had  been 
made  plain  it  was  easy  to  see  how  Columbus  stood  the 
egg  on  its  end  ? 

"You  may  proceed  with  your  narrative.  I  accept  that 
when  certain  liquids  are  connected,  as  you  have  shown, 
by  means  of  porous  substances,  one  will  pass  into  the 
other,  and  the  surface  of  the  lighter  liquid  in  this  case 
will  assume  a  position  below  that  of  the  heavier." 

"You  must  also  accept,"  said  he,  "that  when  solutions 
of  salt  are  subjected  to  earth  attraction,  under  proper 


288  Etidorhpa 

conditions,  the  solids  may  by  capillary  attraction  be  left 
behind,  and  pure  water  finally  pass  through  the  porous 
medium.  Were  it  not  for  this  law,  the  only  natural  sur- 
face spring  water  on  earth  would  be  brine,  for  the  super- 
ficial crust  of  the  earth  is  filled  with  saline  solutions.  All 
the  spring-fed  rivers  and  lakes  would  also  be  salty  and 
fetid  with  sulphur  compounds,  for  at  great  depths  brine 
and  foul  water  are  always  present.  Even  in  countries 
where  all  the  water  below  the  immediate  surface  of  the 
earth  is  briny,  the  running  springs,  if  of  capillary  origin, 
are  pure  and  fresh.  You  may  imagine  how  different  this 
would  be  were  it  not  for  the  law  I  have  cited. 

Continuing,  my  guest  argued  as  follows :  "Do  not 
lakes  exist  on  the  earth's  surface  into  which  rivers  and 
streams  flow,  but  which  have  no  visible  outlet?  Are  not 
such  lakes  saline,  even  though  the  source  of  supply  is 
comparatively  fresh?  Has  it  never  occurred  to  you  to 
question  whether  capillarity  assisted  by  surface  evapora- 
tion (not  evaporation  only  as  men  assert)  is  not  separat- 
ing the  water  of  these  lakes  from  the  saline  substances 
carried  into  them  by  the  streams,  thus  producing  brine 
lakes?  Will  not  this  action  after  a  great  length  of  time 
result  in  crystalline  deposits  over  portions  of  the  bottoms 
of  such  lakes,  and  ultimately  produce  a  salt  bed?" 

"It  is  possible,"  I  replied. 

"Not  only  possible,  but  probable.  Not  only  probable, 
but  true.  Across  the  intervening  brine  strata  above  the 
salt  crystals  the  surface  rivers  may  flow,  indeed,  owing 
to  differences  in  specific  gravity  the  surface  of  the  lake 
may  be  comparatively  fresh,  while  in  the  quiet  depths  be- 
low, beds  of  salt  crystals  are  forming,  and  between  these 
extremes  may  rest  strata  after  strata  of  saline  solutions, 
decreasing  in  gravity  toward  the  top." 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

I   QUESTION  SCIENTIFIC   MEN. ARISTOTLE's   ETHER. 

(Search  of  Llewellyn  Drury  for  evidence  to  refute  the  asser- 
tions made  by  his  occult  visitor,  I-Am-The-Man.) 

When  the  opportunity  presented,  I,  Llewellyn  Drury, 
consulted  Dr.  W.  B.  Chapman,  the  druggist  and  student 
of  science,  regarding  the  nature  of  light  and  earth,  who 
in  turn  referred  me  to  Professor  Daniel  Vaughan.  This 
learned  man,  in  reply  to  my  question  concerning  gravita- 
tion, declared  that  there  was  much  that  men  wished  to 
understand  in  regard  to  this  mighty  force,  that  might 
yet  be  explained,  but  which  may  never  become  known  to 
mortal  man. 

"The  correlation  of  forces,"  said  he,  "was  prominently 
introduced  and  considered  by  a  painstaking  scientific 
writer  named  Joule,  in  several  papers  that  appeared  be- 
tween 1843  ^"cl  1850,  and  he  was  followed  by  others,  who 
engaged  themselves  in  experimenting  and  theorizing,  and 
I  may  add  that  Joule  was  indeed  preceded  in  such 
thought  by  Mayer.  This  department  of  scientific  study 
just  now  appears  of  imusual  interest  to  scientists,  and 
your  questions  embrace  problems  connected  with  some 
phases  of  its  phenomena.  We  believe  that  light,  heat, 
and  electricity  are  mutually  convertible,  in  fact,  the  evi- 
dences recently  opened  up  to  us  show  that  such  must  be 
the  case.  These  agencies  or  manifestations  are  now 
known  to  be  so  related  that  whenever  one  disappears 
others  spring  into  existence.  Study  the  beautiful  experi- 
ments and  remarkable  investigations  of  Sir  William 
Thomson  in  these  directions." 

"And  what  of  gravitation?"  I  asked,  observing  that 
Professor  Vaughan  neglected  to  include  gravitation  among 


290  Etidorhpa 

his  numerous  enumerated  forces,  and  recollecting  that  the 
force  gravitation  was  more  closely  connected  with  my 
visitor's  story  than  perhaps  were  any  of  the  others,  ex- 
cepting the  mysterious  mid-earth  illumination. 

"Of  that  force  we  are  in  greater  ignorance  than  of  the 
others,"  he  replied.  "It  affects  bodies  terrestrial  and 
celestial,  drawing  a  material  substance,  or  pressing  it  to 
the  earth ;  also  holds,  we  believe,  the  earth  and  all  other 
bodies  in  position  in  the  heavens,  thus  maintaining  the 
equilibrium  of  the  planets.  Seemingly  gravitation  is  not 
derived  from  or  sustained  by  an  external  force,  or  sup- 
ply reservoir,  but  is  an  intrinsic  entity,  a  characteristic  of 
matter  that  decreases  in  intensity  at  the  rate  of  the  square 
of  the  increasing  distance,  as  bodies  recede  from  each 
other,  or  from  the  surface  of  the  earth.  However, 
gravitation  neither  escapes  by  radiation  from  bodies  nor 
needs  to  be  replenished,  so  far  as  we  know.  It  may  be 
compared  to  an  elastic  band,  but  there  is  no  intermediate 
tangible  substance  to  influence  bodies  that  are  affected  by 
it,  and  it  remains  in  undying  tension,  unlike  all  elastic 
material  substances  known,  neither  losing  nor  acquiring 
energy  as  time  passes.  Unlike  cohesion  or  chemical  at- 
traction, it  exerts  its  influence  upon  bodies  that  are  out  of 
contact,  and  have  no  material  connection,  and  this  neces- 
sitates a  purely  fanciful  explanation  concerning  the 
medium  that  conducts  such  influences,  bringing  into 
existence  the  illogical,  hypothetical,  fifth  ether,  made  con- 
spicuous by  Aristotle." 

"What  of  this  ether?"  I  queried. 

"It  is  a  necessity  in  science,  but  intangible,  undemon- 
strated,  unknown,  and  wholly  theoretical.  It  is  accepted 
as  an  existing  fluid  by  scientists,  because  human  theory 
cannot  conceive  of  a  substance  capable  of,  or  explain  how 
a  substance  can  be  capable  of  affecting  a  separate  body 
unless  there  is  an  intermediate  medium  to  convey  force 
impressions.  Hence  to  material  substances  Aristotle 
added  (or  at  least  made  conspicuous)  a  speculative  ether 
that,  he  assumed,  pervades  all  space,   and  all  material 


I  Question  Scientific  Men  291 

bodies  as  well,  in  order  to  account  for  the  passage  of  heat 
and  light  to  and  from  the  sun,  stars,  and  planets." 
"Explain  further,"  I  requested. 

"To  conceive  of  such  an  entity  we  must  imagine  a 
material  that  is  more  evanescent  than  any  known  gas, 
even  in  its  most  diffused  condition.     It  must  combine  the 
solidity  of  the  most  perfect  conductor  of  heat   (exceed- 
ing any  known  body  in  this  respect  to  an  infinite  degree) 
with  the  transparency  of  an  absolute  vacuum.     It  must 
neither  create  friction  by  contact  with  any  substance  nor 
possess    attraction    for    matter;    must    neither    possess 
weight   (and  yet  carry  the  force  that  produces  weight) 
nor  respond  to  the  influence  of  any  chemical  agent,  or 
exhibit  itself  to  any  optical  instrument.     It  must  be  in- 
visible and  yet  carry  the  force  that  produces  the  sensation 
of  sight.     It  must  be  of  such  a  nature  that  it  cannot, 
according   to   our   philosophy,    affect    the    corpuscles   o£ 
earthly  substances  while  permeating  them  without  con- 
tact or  friction,  and  yet,  as  a  scientific  incongruity,  it  must 
act  so  readily  on  physical   bodies  as  to  convey   to  the 
material  eye  the  sensation  of  sight,  and  from  the  sun  to 
creatures  on  distant  planets  it  must  carry  the  heat  force, 
thus  giving  rise  to  the  sensation  of  warmth.     Through 
this  medium,  yet  without  sensible  contact  with  it,  worlds 
must  move,  and  planetary  systems  revolve,  cutting  and 
piercing  it  in  every  direction,  without  loss  of  momentum. 
And  yet,  as  I  have  said,  this  ether  must  be  in  such  close 
contact  as  to  convey  to  them  the  essence  that  warms  the 
universe,   lights  the  universe,  and  must  supply   the  at- 
tractive bonds  that  hold  the  stellar  worlds  in  position. 
A  nothing  in  itself,  so  far  as  man's  senses  indicate,  the 
ether  of  space  must  be  denser  than  iridium,  more  mobile 
than  any  known  liquid,  and  stronger  than  the  finest  steel." 
"I  cannot  conceive  of  such  an  entity,"  I  replied. 
"No ;  neither  can  any  man,  for  the  theory  is  irrational, 
and  cannot  be  supported  by  comparison  with  laws  known 
to   man,   but   the   conception   is   nevertheless   a   primary 
necessity  in  scientific  study.     Can  man,  by  any  rational 


292  Etidorhpa 

theory,  combine  a  vacuum  and  a  substance,  and  create  a 
result  that  is  neither  material  nor  vacuity,  neither  some- 
thing nor  nothing,  and  yet  an  intensified  all ;  being  more 
attenuated  than  the  most  perfect  of  known  vacuums,  and 
a  conductor  better  than  the  densest  metal?  This  we  do 
when  we  attempt  to  describe  the  scientists'  all-pervading 
ether  of  space,  and  to  account  for  its  influence  on  matter. 
This  hypothetical  ether  is,  for  want  of  a  better  theory  of 
causes,  as  supreme  in  philosophy  to-day  as  the  alkahest 
of  the  talented  old  alchemist  Van  Helmont  was  in  former 
times,  a  universal  spirit  that  exists  in  conception,  and  yet 
does  not  exist  in  perception,  and  of  which  modern  science 
knows  as  little  as  its  speculative  promulgator,  Aristotle, 
did.  We  who  pride  ourselves  on  our  exact  science,  smile 
at  some  of  Aristotle's  statements  in  other  directions,  for 
science  has  disproved  them,  and  yet  necessity  forces  us 
to  accept  this  illogical  ether  speculation,  which  is,  per- 
haps, the  most  unreasonable  of  all  theories.  Did  not  this 
Greek  philosopher  also  gravely  assert  that  the  lion  has 
but  one  vertebra  in  his  neck ;  that  the  breath  of  man  en- 
ters the  heart ;  that  the  back  of  the  head  is  empty,  and  that 
man  has  but  eight  ribs?" 

"Aristotle  must  have  been  a  careless  observer,"  I  said. 

"Yes,"  he  answered ;  "it  would  seem  so,  and  science 
to-day  bases  its  teachings  concerning  the  passage  of  all 
forces  from  planet  to  planet,  and  sun  to  sun,  on  dicta  such 
as  I  have  cited,  and  no  more  reasonable  in  applied  ex- 
periment." 

"And  I  have  been  referred  to  you  as  a  conscientious 
scientific  teacher,"  I  said ;  "why  do  you  speak  so 
facetiously?" 

"I  am  well  enough  versed  in  what  we  call  science  to 
have  no  fear  of  injuring  the  cause  by  telling  the  truth, 
and  you  asked  a  direct  question.  If  your  questions  carry 
you  farther  in  the  direction  of  force  studies,  accept  at 
once,  that  of  the  intrinsic  constitution  of  force  itself 
nothing  is  known.  Heat,  light,  magnetism,  electricity, 
galvanism  (until  recently  known  as  imponderable  bodies) 


I  Question  Scientific  Men  293 

are  now  considered  as  modifications  of  force ;  but,  in  my 
opinion,  the  time  will  come  when  they  will  be  known  as 
disturbances." 

"Disturbances  of  what?" 

"I  do  not  know  precisely;  but  of  something  that  lies 
behind  them  all,  perhaps  creates  them  all,  but  yet  is  in 
essence  unknown  to  men." 

"Give  me  a  clearer  idea  of  your  meaning." 

"It  seems  impossible,"  he  replied ;  "I  cannot  find  words 
in  which  to  express  myself;  I  do  not  believe  that  forces, 
as  we  know  them  (imponderable  bodies),  are  as  modern 
physics  defines  them.  I  am  tempted  to  say  that,  in  my 
opinion,  forces  are  disturbance  expressions  of  a  some- 
thing with  which  we  are  not  acquainted,  and  yet  in  which 
we  are  submerged  and  permeated.  Aristotle's  ether  per- 
haps. It  seems  to  me,  that,  behind  all  material  sub- 
stances, including  forces,  there  is  an  unknown  spirit, 
which,  by  certain  influences,  may  be  ruffled  into  the  ex- 
hibition of  an  expression,  which  exhibition  of  temper  we 
call  a  force.  From  this  spirit  these  force  expressions 
(wavelets  or  disturbances)  arise,  and  yet  they  may  be- 
come again  quiescent,  and  again  rest  in  its  absorbing 
unity.  The  water  from  the  outlet  of  a  calm  lake  flows 
over  a  gentle  decline  in  ripples,  or  quiet  undulations, 
over  the  rapids  in  musical  laughings,  over  a  precipice  in 
thunder  tones — always  water,  each  a  different  phase, 
however,  to  become  quiet  in  another  lake  (as  ripples  in 
this  universe  may  awaken  to  our  perception,  to  repose 
again),  and  still  be  water." 

He  hesitated, 

"Go  on,"  I  said. 

"So  I  sometimes  have  dared  to  dream  that  gravitation 
may  be  the  reservoir  that  conserves  the  energy  for  all 
mundane  forces,  and  that  what  we  call  modifications  of 
force  are  intermediate  conditions,  ripples,  rapids,  or  cas- 
cades, in  gravitation." 

"Continue,"  I  said,  eagerly,  as  he  hesitated. 

He  shook  his  head. 


CHAPTER   XLIX. 

THE  SOLILOQUY  OF  PROFESSOR  DANIEL  VAUGHAN. ""GRAVI- 
TATION IS  THE  BEGINNING  AND  GRAVITATION  IS  THE 
END  :   ALL   EARTHLY   BODIES   KNEEL  TO  GRAVITATION." 

"Please  continue,  I  am  intensely  interested ;  I  wish 
that  I  could  give  you  my  reasons  for  the  desire ;  I  cannot 
do  so,  but  I  beg  you  to  continue." 

"I  should  add,"  continued  Vaughan,  ignoring  my  re- 
marks, "that  we  have  established  rules  to  measure  the 
force  of  gravitation,  and  have  estimated  the  decrease  of 
attraction  as  we  leave  the  surfaces  of  the  planets.  We 
have  made  comparative  estimates  of  the  weight  of  the 
earth  and  planets,  and  have  reason  to  believe  that  the 
force  expression  of  gravitation  decreases  toward  the 
centre  of  the  earth,  until  at  the  very  centre  of  our 
planet  matter  has  no  weight.  This,  together  with  the 
rule  I  repeated  a  few  moments  ago,  is  about  all  we  know, 
or  think  we  know,  of  gravitation.  Gravitation  is  the  be- 
ginning and  gravitation  is  the  end ;  all  earthly  bodies 
kneel  to  gravitation.  I  cannot  imagine  a  Beyond,  and  yet 
gravitation,"  mused  the  rapt  philosopher,  "may  also  be  an 
expression  of" — he  hesitated  again,  forgetting  me  com- 
pletely, and  leaned  his  shaggy  head  upon  his  hands.  I 
realized  that  his  mind  was  lost  in  conjecture,  and  that  he 
was  absorbed  in  the  mysteries  of  the  scientific  immensity. 
Would  he  speak  again?  I  could  not  think  of  disturbing 
his  revery,  and  minutes  passed  in  silence.  Then  he 
slowly,  softly,  reverently  murmured:  "Gravitation, 
Gravitation,  thou  art  seemingly  the  one  permanent,  ever- 
present  earth-bound  expression  of  Omnipotence.  Heat 
and  light  come  and  go,  as  vapors  of  water  condense  into 
rain  and  dissolve  into  vapor  to  return  again  to  the  atmos- 
phere. Electricity  and  magnetism  appear  and  disappear; 


CRAX  TIAI'IOX   IS    I'HK  KKCINNINC,    AND  CRAXITA  I'll  )N   IS  TIIK  END  ;    Al.I, 
KAKIHI.V    KDDIKS    KNEKL    lO    (;KA\  TIAIION." 


Soliloquy  of  Professor  Daniel  Vaughan    295 

like  summer  storms,  they  move  in  diversified  channels,  or 
even  turn  and  fly  from  contact  with  some  bodies,  seem- 
ingly forbidden  to  appear,  but  thou,  Gravitation,  art 
omnipresent  and  omnipotent.  Thou  createst  motion  and 
yet  maintainest  the  equilibrium  of  all  things  mundane 
and  celestial.  An  attempt  to  imagine  a  body  destitute  of 
thy  potency  would  be  to  bankrupt  and  deaden  the  ma- 
terial universe.  O !  Gravitation,  art  thou  a  voice  out  of 
the  Beyond,  and  are  other  forces  but  echoes — tremulous 
reverberations  that  start  into  life  to  vibrate  for  a  spell 
and  die  in  the  space  caverns  of  the  universe  while  thou 
continuest  supreme?" 

His  bowed  head  and  rounded  shoulders  stooped  yet 
lower ;  he  unconsciously  brushed  his  shaggy  locks  with 
his  hand,  and  seemed  to  confer  with  a  familiar  Being 
whom  others  could  not  see. 

"A  voice  from  without,"  he  repeated ;  "from  beyond 
our  realm !  Shall  the  subtle  ears  of  future  scientists 
catch  yet  lighter  echoes?  Will  the  brighter  thoughts  of 
more  gifted  men,  under  such  furtherings  as  the  future 
may  bring,  perchance  commune  with  beings  who  people 
immensity,  distance  disappearing  before  thy  ever-reach- 
ing spirit?  For  with  thee,  who  boldest  the  universe  to- 
gether, space  is  not  space,  and  there  is  no  word  express- 
ing time.  Art  thou  a  voice  that  carriest  the  history  of  the 
past  from  the  past  unto  and  into  the  present,  and  for 
which  there  is  no  future,  all  conditions  of  time  being  as 
one  to  thee,  thyself  covering  all  and  connecting  all  to- 
gether? Art  thou,  Gravitation,  a  voice?  If  so,  there 
must  be  a  something  farther  out  in  those  fathomless 
caverns,  beyond  mind  imaginings,  from  which  thou 
comest,  for  how  could  nothingness  have  formulated  it- 
self into  a  voice?  The  suns  and  universe  of  suns  about 
us  may  be  only  vacant  points  in  the  depths  of  an  all- 
pervading  entity  in  which  even  thyself  dost  exist  as  a 
momentary  echo,  linked  to  substances  ponderous,  destined 
to  fade  away  in  the  interstellar  expanse  outside,  where 
disturbances  disappear,  and  matter  and  gravitation  to- 


296  Etidorhpa 

gether  die;  where  all  is  pure,  quiescent,  peaceful  and 
dark.  Gravitation,  Gravitation,  imperishable  Gravita- 
tion ;  thou  seemingly  art  the  ever-pervading,  unalterable, 
but  yet  moving  spirit  of  a  cosmos  of  solemn  mysteries. 
Art  thou  now,  in  unperceived  force  expressions,  speaking 
to  dumb  humanity  of  other  universes ;  of  suns  and 
vortices  of  suns ;  bringing  tidings  from  the  solar  planets, 
or  even  infinitely  distant  star  mists,  the  silent  unresolved 
nebulae,  and  spreading  before  earth-bound  mortal  minds, 
each  instant,  fresh  tidings  from  without,  that  in  igno- 
rance, we  cannot  read  ?  May  not  beings,  perhaps  like  our- 
selves, but  higher  in  the  scale  of  intelligence,  those  who 
people  some  of  the  planets  about  us,  even  now  beckon 
and  try  to  converse  with  us  through  thy  subtle,  ever-pres- 
ent self?  And  may  not  their  efforts  at  communication 
fail  because  of  our  ignorance  of  a  language  they  can 
read?  Are  not  light  and  heat,  electricity  and  magnetism, 
plodding,  vacillating  agents  compared  with  thy  steady 
existence,  and  is  it  even  further  possible — ?" 

His  voice  had  gradually  lowered,  and  now  it  became 
inaudible ;  he  was  oblivious  to  my  presence,  and  had  gone 
forth  from  his  own  self;  he  was  lost  in  matters  celestial, 
and  abstractedly  continued  unintelligibly  to  mutter  to 
himself  as,  brushing  his  hair  from  his  forehead,  he  picked 
up  his  well-worn  felt  hat,  and  placed  it  awkwardly  on  his 
shaggy  head,  and  then  shuffled  away  without  bidding  me 
farewell.  The  bent  form,  prematurely  shattered  by 
privation ;  uncouth,  unkempt,  typical  of  suffering  and 
neglect,  impressed  me  with  the  fact  that  in  him  man's 
life  essence,  the  immortal  mind,  had  forgotten  the  ma- 
terial part  of  man.  The  physical  half  of  man,  even  of  his 
own  being,  in  Daniel  Vaughan's  estimation,  was  an  en- 
cumbrance unworthy  of  serious  attention,  his  spirit  com- 
muned with  the  pure  in  Nature,  and  to  him  science  was 
a  study  of  the  great  Beyond.* 


*Mr.  Drury  cannot  claim  to  have  recorded  verbatim  Professor 
Vaughan's  remarks,  but  has  endeavored  to  give  the  substance.  His 
language  was  faultless,  his  word  selections  beautiful,  his  soliloquy 


Soliloquy  of  Professor  Daniel  Vaughan    297 

I  embraced  the  first  opportunity  that  presented  itself 
to  read  the  works  that  Professor  Vaughan  suggested,  and 
sought  him  more  than  once  to  question  further.  How- 
ever, he  would  not  commit  himself  in  regard  to  the  pos- 
sible existence  of  other  forces  than  those  with  which  we 
are  acquainted,  and  when  I  interrogated  him  as  to  pos- 
sibilities in  the  study  of  obscure  force  expressions,  he 
declined  to  express  an  opinion  concerning  the  subject. 
Indeed,  I  fancied  that  he  believed  it  probable,  or  at  least 
not  impossible,  that  a  closer  acquaintance  with  con- 
ditions of  matter  and  energy  might  be  the  heirloom  of 
future  scientific  students.  At  last  I  gave  up  the  search, 
convinced  that  all  the  information  I  was  able  to  obtain 
from  other  persons  whom  I  questioned,  and  whose 
answers  were  often  prompt  and  positive,  was  evolved 
largely  from  self-conceit.  After  hearing  Vaughan,  all 
other  voices  sounded  empty. 


impressive  beyond  description.  Perhaps  Drury  even  misstated  an 
idea,  or  more  than  one,  evolved  then  by  the  great  mind  of  that 
patient  man.  Professor  Daniel  Vaughan  was  fitted  for  a  scientific 
position  of  the  highest  honor ;  but,  neglected  by  man,  proud  as  a 
king,  he  bore  uncomplainingly  privations  most  bitter,  and  suf- 
fered alone  until  finally  he  died  from  starvation  and  neglect  in 
the  city  of  his  adoption.  Some  persons  are  ready  to  cry,  "Shame ! 
Shame !"  at  wealthy  Cincinnati ;  others  assert  that  men  could  not 
give  to  Daniel  Vaughan,  and  since  the  first  edition  of  Etidorhpa 
appeared,  the  undersigned  has  learned  of  one  vain  attempt  to  serve 
the  interests  of  this  peculiar  man.  He  would  not  beg,  and  know- 
ing his  capacities,  if  he  could  not  procure  a  position  in  which  to 
earn  a  living,  he  preferred  to  starve.  The  only  bitterness  of  his 
nature,  it  is  said,  went  out  against  those  who,  in  his  opinion,  kept 
from  him  such  employment  as  returns  a  livelihood  to  scientific 
men ;  for  he  well  knew  his  intellect  earned  for  him  such  a  right  in 
Cincinnati,  the  city  in  which  none  who  knew  him  will  deny  that 
he  perished  from  cold  and  privation.  Commemorated  is  he  not 
by  a  bust  of  bronze  that  distorts  the  facts  in  that  the  garments  are 
not  seedy  and  unkempt,  the  figure  stooping,  the  cheek  hollow  and 
the  eye  pitifully  expressive  of  an  empty  stomach?  That  bust 
modestly  rests  in  the  public  library  he  loved  so  well,  in  which  he 
suffered  so  uncomplainingly,  and  starved  so  patiently. — J.  U.  L. 


CHAPTER    L. 

A   CHALLENGE. 

(Which  the  unbidden  guest  of  Mr.  Drury  accepts,  forthwith 
proceeding  to  demonstrate  that  a  fountain  may  rise  above  its 
source.) 

Said  I-Am-The-Man,  "If  you  wish  to  stake  your  entire 
argument  on  the  general  statement  that  a  stream  of  water 
cannot  rise  above  its  head,  I  will  accept  the  challenge ; 
but  I  insist  that  you  do  not  divulge  the  nature  of  the 
experiment  until,  as  you  are  directed,  you  make  public 
my  story." 

"Of  course  a  fluid  can  be  pumped  up,"  I  sarcastically 
observed.     "However,  I  promise  the  secrecy  you  ask." 

"I  am  speaking  seriously,"  he  said,  "and  I  have  ac- 
cepted your  challenge ;  your  own  eyes  shall  view  the 
facts,  your  own  hands  prepare  the  conditions  necessary. 
Procure  a  few  pints  of  sand  and  a  few  pounds  of  salt ; 
to-morrow  evening  I  shall  be  ready  to  make  the  experi- 
ment." 

"Agreed ;  if  you  will  induce  a  stream  of  water  to  run 
up  hill,  a  fountain  to  rise  above  its  head,  I  will  believe 
any  statement  you  may  henceforth  make." 

"Be  ready,  then,"  he  replied,  "and  procure  the  ma- 
terials named."  So  saying  he  picked  up  his  hat  and 
abruptly  departed. 

These  substances  I  purchased  the  next  day,  procuring 
the  silver  sand  from  Gordon's  pharmacy,  corner  of 
Eighth  and  Western  Row,  and  promptly  at  the  specified 
time  we  met  in  my  room. 

He  came,  provided  with  a  cylindrical  glass  jar  about 
eighteen  inches  high  and  two  inches  in  diameter  (such  as 
I  have  since  learned  is  called  a  hydrometer  jar),  and  a 


A  Challenge  299 

long,  slender  drawn  glass  tube,  the  internal  diameter  of 
which  was  about  one-sixteenth  of  an  inch. 

"You  have  deceived  me,"  I  said;  "I  know  well  enough 
that  capillary  attraction  will  draw  a  liquid  above  its  sur- 
face. You  demonstrated  that  quite  recently  to  my  entire 
satisfaction." 

"True,  and  yet  not  true  of  this  experiment,"  he  said. 
"'I  propose  to  force  water  through  and  out  of  this  tube ; 
capillary  attraction  will  not  expel  a  liquid  from  a  tube  if 
its  mouth  be  above  the  surface  of  the  supply." 

He  dipped  the  tip  of  a  capillary  tube  into  a  tumbler  of 
water ;  the  water  rose  inside  the  tube  about  an  inch  above 
the  surface  of  the  water  in  the  tumbler. 

"Capillary  attraction  can  do  no  more,"  he  said.  "Break 
the  tube  one-eighth  of  an  inch  above  the  water  ( far  below 
the  present  capillary  surface),  and  it  will  not  overflow. 
The  exit  of  the  tube  must  be  lower  than  the  surface  of  the 
liquid  if  circulation  ensues." 

He  broke  off  a  fragment,  and  the  result  was  as  pre- 
dicted. 

Then  he  poured  water  into  the  glass  jar  to  the  depth 
of  about  six  inches,  and  selecting  a  piece  of  very  thin 
muslin,  about  an  inch  square,  turned  it  over  the  end  of 
the  glass  tube,  tied  it  in  position,  and  dropped  that  end 
of  the  tube  into  the  cylinder. 

"The  muslin  simply  prevents  the  tube  from  filling  with 
sand,"  he  explained.  Then  he  poured  sand  into  the 
cylinder  tmtil  it  reached  the  surface  of  the  water.  (See 
Figure  2t,.) 

"Your  apparatus  is  simple  enough,"  I  remarked,  I  am 
afraid  with  some  sarcasm. 

"Nature  works  with  exceeding  simplicity,"  he  replied ; 
"there  is  no  complex  apparatus  in  her  laboratory,  and  I 
copy  after  Nature." 

Then  he  dissolved  the  salt  in  a  portion  of  water  that 
he  drew  from  the  hydrant  into  my  wash-bowl,  making  a 
strong  brine,  and  stirred  sand  into  the  brine  to  make  a 
thick  mush.     This  mixture  of  sand  and  brine  he  then 


300 


Etidorhpa 


A- 


0- 


poured  into  the  cylinder,  filling  it  nearly  to  the  top.  (See 
Figure  2t„  B.  The  sand  settling  soon  left  a  layer  of 
brine  above  it,  as  shown  by  A.)  I  had  previously  noticed 
that  the  upper  end  of  the  glass  tube  was  curved,  and  my 
surprise  can  be  imagined  when  I  saw  that  at  once  water 
began  to  flow  through  the  tube,  dropping  quite  rapidly 
into  the  cylinder.  The  lower  end  of  the  curve  of  the 
glass  tube  was  fully  half  an  inch  above  the  surface  of  the 
liquid  in  the  cylinder. 

I  here  present  a  figure  of  the  apparatus.  (Figure  2^.) 
The  strange  man,  or  man  image,  I  do  not 
know  which,  sat  before  me,  and  in  silence  we 
watched  the  steady  flow  of  water,  v,'ater  ris- 
ing above  its  surface  and  flowing  into  the 
reservoir  from  which  it  was  being  continu- 
ally derived. 

"Do  you  give  up?"  he  asked. 
"Let  me  think,"  I  said. 
"As  you  please,"  he  replied. 
/;;»i^j^  "How  long  will  this  continue  ?"  I  inquired. 

\ y  "Until  strong  salt  water  flows  from  the 

tube." 

Then  the  old  man  continued  : 
"I  would  suggest  that  after  I  depart  you 
repeat  these  experiments.  The  observations 
of  those  interested  in  science  must  be  re- 
peated time  and  again  by  separate  in- 
dividuals. It  is  not  sufficient  that  one  person  should 
observe  a  phenomenon ;  repeated  experiments  are  neces- 
sary in  order  to  overcome  error  of  manipulation,  and  to 
convince  others  of  their  correctness.  Not  only  yourself, 
but  many  others,  after  this  manuscript  appears,  should  go 
through  with  similiar  investigations,  varied  in  detail  as 
mind  expansion  may  suggest.  This  experiment  is  but 
the  germ  of  a  thought  which  will  be  enlarged  upon  by 
many  minds  under  other  conditions.  A  meteorological 
event  may  occur  in  the  experience  of  one  observer,  never 
to  be  repeated.    This  is  possible.    The  results  of  such  ex- 


FlG.  23. 

A,  brine. 

B,  sand  and 
brine  mix- 
ed. 

C,  sand  and 
water. 


A  Challenge  301 

periments  as  you  are  observing,  however,  must  be  fol- 
lowed by  similar  results  in  the  hands  of  others,  and  in 
behalf  of  science  it  is  necessary  that  others  should  be 
able  to  verify  your  experience.  In  the  time  to  come  it 
will  be  necessary  to  support  your  statements  in  order  to 
demonstrate  that  your  perceptive  faculties  are  now  in  a 
normal  condition.  Are  you  sure  that  your  conceptions  of 
these  results  are  justified  by  normal  perception?  May 
you  not  be  in  an  exalted  state  of  mind  that  hinders  clear 
perception,  and  compels  you  to  imagine  and  accept  as 
fact  that  which  does  not  exist?  Do  you  see  what  you 
think  you  see?  After  I  am  gone,  and  the  influences  that 
my  person  and  mind  exert  on  your  own  mind  have  been 
removed,  will  these  results,  as  shown  by  my  experiments, 
follow  similar  experimental  conditions?  In  the  years 
that  are  to  pass  before  this  paper  is  to  be  made  public,  it 
will  be  your  duty  to  verify  your  present  sense  faculty. 
This  you  must  do  as  opportunities  present,  and  with  dif- 
ferent devices,  so  that  no  question  may  arise  as  to  what 
will  follow  when  others  repeat  our  experiments.  To- 
morrow evening  I  shall  call  again,  but  remember,  you 
must  not  tell  others  of  this  experiment,  nor  show  the 
devices  to  them." 

"I  have  promised,"  I  answered. 

He  gathered  his  manuscript  and  departed,  and  i  sat 
in  meditation  watching  the  mysterious  fountain. 

As  he  had  predicted,  finally,  after  a  long  time,  the  flow 
slackened,  and  by  morning,  when  I  arose  from  my  bed, 
the  water  had  ceased  to  drip,  and  then  I  found  it  salty 
to  the  taste. 

The  next  evening  he  appeared  as  usual,  and  prepared 
to  resume  his  reading,  making  no  mention  of  the  previous 
test  of  my  faith.  I  interrupted  him,  however,  by  saying 
that  I  had  observed  that  the  sand  had  settled  in  the 
cylinder,  and  that  in  my  opinion  his  experiment  was  not 
true  to  appearances,  but  was  a  deception,  since  the  sand 
"by  its  greater  weight  displaced  the  water,  which  escaped 
through  the  tube,  where  there  was  least  resistance. 


302  Etidorhpa 

"Ah,"  he  said,  "and  so  you  refuse  to  believe  your  own- 
eyesight,  and  are  contriving  an  excuse  to  escape  the  de- 
served penalty ;  I  will,  however,  acquiesce  in  your  out- 
spoken desire  for  further  light,  and  repeat  the  experi- 
ment without  using  sand.  But  I  tell  you  that  mother 
earth,  in  the  phenomena  known  as  artesian  wells,  uses- 
sand  and  clay,  pools  of  mineral  waters  of  different  gravi- 
ties, and  running  streams.  The  waters  beneath  the  earth 
are  under  pressure,  induced  by  such  natural  causes  as  I 
have  presented  you  in  miniature,  the  chief  difference 
being  that  the  supplies  of  both  salt  and  fresh  water  are  in- 
exhaustible, and  by  natural  combinations  similar  to  what 
you  have  seen ;  the  streams  within  the  earth,  if  a  pipe 
be  thrust  into  them,  may  rise  continuously,  eternally,  from 
a  reservoir  higher  than  the  head.  In  addition,  there  are 
pressures  of  gases,  and  solutions  of  many  salts,  other 
than  common  salt,  that  tend  to  favor  the  phenomenon^ 
You  are  unduly  incredulous,  and  you  ask  of  me  more 
than  your  right  after  staking  your  faith  on  an  experiment 
of  your  own  selection.  You  demand  more  of  me  even 
than  Nature  often  accomplishes  in  earth  structure ;  but 
to-morrow  night  I  will  show  you  that  this  seemingly  im- 
possible feat  is  possible." 

He  then  abruptly  left  the  room.  The  following  even- 
ing he  presented  himself  with  a  couple  of  one-gallon  cans, 
one  of  them  without  a  bottom.  I  thought  I  could  detect 
some  impatience  of  manner  as  he  filled  the  perfect  can 
(D)  with  water  from  the  hydrant,  and  having  spread  a 
strip  of  thin  muslin  over  the  mouth  of  the  other  can 
(B),  pressed  it  firmly  over  the  mouth  (C)  of  the  can  of 
water,  which  it  fitted  tightly,  thus  connecting  them  to- 
gether, the  upper  (bottomless)  can  being  inverted.  Then 
he  made  a  narrow  slit  in  the  centre  of  the  muslin  with  his 
pen-knife,  and  through  it  thrust  a  glass  tube  like  that 
of  our  former  experiment.  Next  he  wrapped  a  string 
around  the  open  top  of  the  upper  can,  crossed  it  over 
the  top,  and  tied  the  glass  tube  to  the  centre  of  the  cross, 
string. 


A  Challenge 


303 


"Simply  to  hold  this  tube  in  position,"  he  explained. 
The  remainder  of  the  bag  of  salt  left  from  the  experi- 
ment of  the  preceding  evening  was  then  dissolved  in 
water,  and  the  brine  poured  into  the  upper  can,  filling  it 
to  the  top.  Then  carefully  thrusting  the  glass  tube  down- 
ward, he  brought  the  tip  of  the  curve  to  within  about  one- 
half  inch  of  the  surface  of  the  brine,  when 
immediately  a  rapid  flow  of  liquid  exhibited 
itself.    (Figure  24.) 

'Tt  rises  above  its  source  without  sand," 
he  observed. 

"I  cannot  deny  the  fact,"  I  replied,  "and 
furthermore  I  am  determined  that  I  shall  not 
question  any  subsequent  statement  that  you 
may  make."  We  sat  in  silence  for  some 
time,  and  the  water  ran  continuously 
through  the  tube.  I  was  becoming  alarmed, 
afraid  of  my  occult  guest,  who  accepted  my 
self-selected  challenges,  and  worked  out  his 
results  so  rapidly;  he  seemed  to  be  more 
than  human. 

"I     am  a    mortal,    but  a  resident    of  a 
higher  plane  than  you,"  he  replied,  divining 
my  thoughts.     "Is   not  this   experiment  a 
natural  one?" 
"Yes,"  I  said. 
"And  Shakespeare  wrote,  'There  are  more  things  in 
heaven  and  earth,  Horatio,  than  are  dreamt  of  in  your 
philosophy.'  " 
"Yes." 

And  my  guest  continued : 
"He  might  have  added,  'and  always  will  be.' " 
"Scientific  men  will  explain  this  phenomenon,"  I  sug- 
gested. 

"Yes,  when  they  observe  the  facts,"  he  replied,  "it  is 
very  simple.  They  can  now  tell,  as  I  have  before  re- 
marked, how  Columbus  stood  the  egg  on  end ;  however, 
given  the  problem  before  Columbus  expounded  it,  they 


Fig.  24. 

A,  surface  of 
brine. 

B,  upper  can 
filled  with 
brine. 

C,  necks  of 
cans  tele- 
scoped. 

D,  lower  can 
full  of 
water. 


304  Etidorhpa 

would  probably  have  wandered  as  far  from  the  true 
solution  as  the  mountain  with  its  edgewise  layers  of  stone 
is  from  the  disconnected  artesian  wells  on  a  distant  sea- 
coast  where  the  underground  fresh  and  salt  water  in 
overlying  currents  and  layers  clash  together.  The  ex- 
planation, of  course,  is  simple.  The  brine  is  of  greater 
specific  gravity  than  the  pure  water ;  the  pressure  of  the 
heavier  fluid  forces  the  lighter  up  in  the  tube.  This 
action  continues  vmtil,  as  you  will  see  by  this  experiment, 
in  the  gradual  diffusion  of  brine  and  pure  water  the  salt 
is  disseminated  equally  throughout  the  vessels,  and  the 
specific  gravity  of  the  mixed  liquid  becomes  the  same 
throughout,  when  the  flow  will  cease.  However,  in  the 
earth,  where  supplies  are  practically  inexhaustible,  an 
equilibrium  is  never  made,  the  fountain  flows  unceas- 
ingly." 


CHAPTER   LI. 

BEWARE  OF   BIOLOGY,   THE  SCIENCE  OF  THE  LIFE  OF   MAN. 

(Wherein  I-Am-The-Man  holds  his  unwilling  listener's  atten- 
tion as  he  relates  a  story  which  bids  one  shudder.) 

"But  you  have  not  lived  up  to  the  promise ;  you  have 
evaded  part  of  the  bargain,"  I  continued.  "While  you 
have  certainly  perforrned  some  curious  experiments  in 
physics  which  seem  to  be  unique,  yet  I  am  only  an 
amateur  in  science,  and  your  hydrostatic  illustrations 
may  be  repetitions  of  investigations  already  recorded, 
that  have  escaped  the  attention  of  the  scientific  gentlemen 
to  whom  I  have  hitherto  applied." 

"Man  is  a  creature  of  doubts  and  questions,"  he  ob- 
served. "Answer  one  query,  and  others  rise.  His  inner 
self  is  never  satisfied,  and  you  are  not  to  blame  for  wish- 
ing for  a  sign,  as  all  self-conscious  conditions  of  your 
former  existence  compel.  Now  that  I  have  brushed  aside 
the  more  prominent  questionings,  you  insist  upon  those 
omitted,  and  appeal  to  me  to" — he  hesitated. 

"To  what?"  I  asked,  curious  to  see  if  he  had  intui- 
tively grasped  my  unspoken  sentence. 

"To  exhibit  to  you  your  own  brain,"  he  replied. 

"That  is  it  exactly,"  I  said ;  "you  promised  it,  and  you 
shall  be  held  strictly  to  your  bargain.  You  agreed  to 
show  me  my  own  brain,  and  it  seems  evident  that  you 
have  purposely  evaded  the  promise." 

"That  I  have  made  the  promise  and  deferred  its  com- 
pletion cannot  be  denied,  but  not  by  reason  of  an  inability 
to  fulfil  the  contract.  I  will  admit  that  I  purposely  de- 
ferred the  exhibition,  hoping  on  your  own  account  that 
you  would  forget  the  hasty  promise.     You  would  better 


306  Etidorhpa 

release  me  from  the  promise ;  you  do  not  know  what  you 
ask." 

"I  beHeve  that  I  ask  more  than  you  can  perform,"  I 
answered,  "and  that  you  know  it." 

"Let  me  give  you  a  history,"  he  said,  "and  then  per- 
haps you  will  relent.  Listen.  A  man  once  became 
involved  in  the  study  of  anatomy.  It  led  him  to  de- 
struction. He  commenced  the  study  in  order  to  learn  a 
profession ;  he  hoped  to  become  a  physician.  Materia 
medica,  pharmacy,  chemistry,  enticed  him  at  first,  but 
after  a  time  presented  no  charms.  He  was  a  dull  student 
in  much  that  men  usually  consider  essential  to  the  prac- 
tice of  medicine.  He  was  not  fitted  to  be  a  physician. 
Gradually  he  became  absorbed  in  two  branches,  physi- 
ology and  anatomy.  Within  his  mental  self  a  latent 
something  developed  that  neither  himself  nor  his  friends 
had  suspected.  This  was  an  increasing  desire  for  knowl- 
edge concerning  the  human  body.  The  insatiable  craving 
for  anatomy  grew  upon  him,  and  as  it  did  so  other  sec- 
tions of  medicine  were  neglected.  Gradually  he  lost  sight 
of  his  professional  object ;  he  dropped  chemistry,  materia 
medica,  pharmacy,  and  at  last  morbidly  lived  only  in  the 
aforenamed  two  branches. 

"His  first  visit  to  the  dissecting  room  was  disagreeable. 
The  odor  of  putrid  flesh,  the  sight  of  the  mutilated  bodies 
repulsed  him.  When  first  his  hand,  warm  in  life,  touched 
the  clammy  flesh  of  a  corpse,  he  shuddered.  Then  when 
his  fingers  came  in  contact  with  the  viscera  of  a  cadaver, 
that  of  a  little  child,  he  cried  out  in  horror.  The  demon- 
strator of  anatomy  urged  him  on ;  he  finally  was  induced 
to  dissect  part  of  the  infant.  The  reflex  action  on  his 
sensitive  mind  first  stunned,  and  then  warped  his  senses. 
His  companions  had  to  lead  him  from  the  room.  'Wash 
it  off,  wash  it  off,'  he  repeated,  trying  to  throw  his  hand 
from  his  person.  'Horrid,  horrible,  unclean.  The  child 
is  yet  before  me,'  he  insisted.  Then  he  went  into  a  fever 
and  raved.  'Some  mother  will  meet  me  on  the  street  and 
curse  me,'  he  cried.    '  "That  hand  is  red  with  the  blood  of 


Beware  of  Biology  307 

my  darling;  it  has  desecrated  the  innocent  dead,  and 
mutilated  that  which  is  most  precious  to  a  mother."  Take 
the  hand  away,  wash  it,'  he  shouted.  'The  mother  curses 
me ;  she  demands  retribution.  Better  that  a  man  be  dead 
than  cursed  by  a  mother  whose  child  has  been  desecrated.' 
So  the  unfortunate  being  raved,  dreaming  all  manner  of 
horrid  imaginings.  But  at  last  he  recovered,  a  different 
man.  He  returned  voluntarily  to  the  dissecting-room, 
and  wrapped  himself  in  the  uncouth  work.  Nothing  in 
connection  with  corpse-mutilation  was  now  offensive  or 
unclean.  He  threw  aside  his  other  studies,  he  became  a 
slave  possessed  of  one  idea.  He  scarcely  took  time  to 
dine  respectably ;  indeed,  he  often  ate  his  lunch  in  the 
dissecting-room.  The  blood  of  a  child  was  again  and 
again  on  his  fingers ;  it  mattered  not,  he  did  not  take  the 
trouble  to  wash  it  off.  'The  liver  of  man  is  not  more 
sacred  than  the  liver  of  a  hog,'  he  argued ;  'the  flesh  of  a 
man  is  the  same  as  other  forms  of  animal  food.  When  a 
person  dies  the  vital  heat  escapes,  consciousness  is  dis- 
sipated, and  the  cold,  rigid  remains  are  only  animal. 
Consciousness  and  life  are  all  that  is  of  man — one  is 
force,  the  other  matter;  when  man  dies  both  perish  and 
are  dissipated.'  His  friends  perceived  his  fondness  for 
dissection,  and  argued  with  him  again,  endeavoring  now 
to  overcome  his  infatuation ;  he  repelled  them.  'I  learned 
in  my  vision,'  he  said,  referring  to  his  fever,  'that  Pope 
was  right  in  saying  that  the  "proper  study  of  mankind  is 
man ;"  I  care  nothing  for  your  priestly  superstitions  con- 
cerning the  dead.  These  fables  are  the  invention  of 
designing  churchmen  who  live  on  the  superstitions  of  the 
ignorant.  I  am  an  infidel,  and  believe  in  no  intangible 
spirit ;  that  which  can  be  seen,  felt,  and  weighed  is,  all 
else  is  not.  Life  is  simply  a  sensation.  All  beyond  is 
chimerical,  less  than  fantastic,  believed  in  only  by  dupes 
and  weak-minded,  credulous  tools  of  knaves,  or  creatures 
of  blind  superstition.'  He  carried  the  finely  articulated, 
bleached  skull  of  a  cadaver  to  his  room,  and  placed  it  be- 
side a  marble  statue  that  was  a  valued  heirloom,   the 


308  Etidorhpa 

model  of  Venus  of  Milo.  'Both  are  lime  compounds,' 
he  cynically  observed,  'neither  is  better  than  the  other.' 
His  friends  protested.  'Your  superstitious  education  is 
at  fault,'  he  answered ;  'you  mentally  clothe  one  of  these 
objects  in  a  quality  it  does  not  deserve,  and'lhe  thought 
creates  a  pleasant  emotion.  The  other,  equally  as  pure, 
reminds  you  of  the  grave  that  you  fear,  and  you  shudder. 
These  mental  pulsations  are  artificial,  both  being  either 
survivals  of  superstition  or  creations  of  your  own  mind. 
The  lime  in  the  skull  is  now  as  inanimate  as  that  of  the 
statue ;  neither  object  is  responsible  for  its  form,  neither 
is  unclean.  To  me,  the  delicate  configuration,  the  exact 
articulation,  the  perfect  adaptation  for  the  office  it  origi- 
nally filled,  makes  each  bone  of  this  skull  a  thing  of 
beauty,  an  object  of  admiration.  As  a  whole,  it  gives  me 
pleasure  to  think  of  this  wonderful,  exquisitely  arranged 
piece  of  mechanism.  The  statue  you  admire  is  in  every 
respect  outri vailed  by  the  skull,  and  I  have  placed  the  two 
together  because  it  pleases  me  to  demonstrate  that  man's 
most  artistic  creation  is  far  inferior  to  material  man. 
Throw  aside  your  sentimental  prejudices,  and  join  with 
me  in  the  admiration  of  this  thing  of  beauty ;'  and  he  toyed 
with  the  skull  as  if  it  were  a  work  of  art.  So  he  argued, 
and  arguing  passed  from  bone  to  bone,  and  from  organ 
to  organ.  He  filled  his  room  with  abnormal  fragments  of 
the  human  body,  and  surrounded  himself  with  jars  of 
preserved  anatomical  specimens.  His  friends  fled  in  dis- 
gust, and  he  smiled,  glad  to  be  alone  with  his  ghastly 
subjects.  He  was  infatuated  in  one  of  the  alcoves  of 
science." 

The  old  man  paused. 

"Shall  I  proceed?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,"  I  said,  but  involuntarily  moved  my  chair  back, 
for  I  began  again  to  be  afraid  of  the  speaker. 

"At  last  this  scientific  man  had  mastered  all  that  was 
known  concerning  physiology  and  anatomy.  He  learned 
by  heart  the  wording  of  great  volumes  devoted  to  these 
subjects.     The  human  frame  became  to  him  as  an  open 


Beware  of  Biology  309 

book.  He  knew  the  articulation  of  every  muscle,  could 
name  a  bone  from  a  mere  fragment.  The  microscope 
ceased  to  be  an  object  of  interest,  the  secrets  of  pathology 
and  physiology  had  been  mastered.  Then,  unconsciously, 
he  was  infected  by  another  tendency ;  a  new  thought  was 
destined  to  dominate  his  brain.  'What  is  it  that  animates 
this  frame?  What  lies  inside  to  give  it  life?'  He  became 
enthused  again :  'The  dead  body  to  which  I  have  given 
my  time  is  not  the  conscious  part  of  man,'  he  said  to  him- 
self; T  must  find  this  thing  of  life  within;  I  have  been 
onlv  a  butcher  of  the  dead.  My  knowledge  is  super- 
ficial.' " 

Again  the  old  man  hesitated  and  looked  at  me  inquir- 
ingly. 

"Shall  I  proceed?"  he  repeated. 

I  was  possessed  by  horror,  but  yet  fascinated,  and 
answered  determinedly :  "Go  on." 

"Beware,"  he  added,  "beware  of  the  Science  of  Life." 

Pleadingly  he  looked  at  me. 

"Go  on,"  I  commanded. 

He  continued : 

"With  the  cunning  of  a  madman,  this  person  of  pro- 
found learning,  led  from  the  innocence  of  ignorance  to 
the  heartlessness  of  advanced  biological  science,  secretly 
planned  to  seek  the  vital  forces.  T  must  begin  with  a 
child,  for  the  life  essence  shows  its  first  manifestations  in 
children,'  he  reasoned.  He  moved  to  an  unfrequented 
locality,  discharged  his  servants,  and  notified  his  former 
friends  that  visitors  were  unwelcome.  He  had  deter- 
mined that  no  interruption  to  his  work  should  occur. 
This  course  was  unnecessary,  however,  for  now  he  had 
neither  friends  nor  visitors.  He  employed  carpenters 
and  artisans,  and  perfected  a  series  of  mechanical  tables, 
beautiful  examples  of  automatic  mechanism.  From  the 
inner  room  of  that  house  no  cry  could  be  heard  by  per- 
sons outside.     .     .     . 

"Hold,  old  man,  cease,"  I  cried  aghast ;  "I  have  had 
enough  of  this.    You  trifle  with  me,  demon ;  I  have  not 


3IO  Etidorhpa 

asked  for  nightmare  stories,  heart-curdling  accounts  of 
maniacal  investigators,  who  madly  pursue  their  revolting 
calling,  and  discredit  the  name  of  science." 

"You  asked  to  see  your  own  brain,"  he  replied. 

"And  have  been  given  a  terrible  story  instead,"  I  re- 
torted. 

"So  perverted  men,  misconstruing  the  aim  of  science, 
answer  the  cry  of  humanity,"  he  said.  "One  by  one  the 
cherished  treasures  of  Christianity  have  been  stolen  from 
the  faithful.  What,  to  the  mother,  can  replace  the  babe 
that  has  been  lost?" 

"The  next  world,"  I  answered,  "oflfers  a  comfort." 

"Bah,"  he  said ;  "does  not  another  searcher  in  that 
same  science  field  tell  the  mother  that  there  is  no  personal 
hereafter,  that  she  will  never  see  her  babe  again?  One 
man  of  science  steals  the  body,  another  man  of  science 
takes  away  the  soul,  the  third  annihilates  heaven ;  they 
go  like  pestilence  and  famine,  hand  in  hand,  subsisting 
on  all  that  craving  humanity  considers  sacred,  and  of- 
fering no  tangible  return  beyond  a  materialistic  present. 
This  same  science  that  seems  to  be  doing  so  much  for 
humanity  will  continue  to  elevate  so-called  material 
civilization  until,  as  the  yeast  ferment  is  smothered  in  its 
own  excretion,  so  will  science-thought  create  conditions 
to  blot  itself  from  existence  and  destroy  the  civilization 
it  creates.  Science  is  heartless,  notwithstanding  the  per- 
sonal purity  of  the  majority  of  her  helpless  votaries.  She 
is  a  thief,  not  of  ordinary  riches,  but  of  treasures  that 
cannot  be  replaced.  Before  science  provings  the  love  of 
a  mother  perishes,  the  hope  of  immortality  is  annihilated. 
Beware  of  materialism,  the  end  of  the  science  of  man. 
Beware  of  the  beginning  of  biological  inquiry,  for  he 
who  commences  cannot  foresee  the  termination.  I  say  to 
you  in  candor,  no  man  ever  engaged  in  the  part  of  science 
lore  that  questions  the  life  essence,  realizing  the  possible 
end  of  his  investigations.  The  insidiovis  servant  becomes 
a  tyrannical  master ;  the  housebreaker  is  innocent,  the 
horse  thief  guiltless  in  comparison.     Science  thought  be- 


Beware  of  Biology  311 

gins  in  the  brain  of  man ;  science  provings  end  all  things 
witli  the  end  of  the  material  brain  of  man.  Beware  of 
your  own  brain," 

"I  have  no  fear,"  I  replied,  "that  I  shall  ever  be  led  to 
disturb  the  creeds  of  the  faithful,  and  I  will  not  be 
diverted.    I  demand  to  see  my  brain." 

"Your  demand  shall  now  be  fulfilled;  you  have  been 
warned  of  the  return  that  may  follow  the  commencement 
of  this  study;  you  force  the  issue;  my  responsibility 
ceases.  No  man  of  science  realized  the  end  when  he  be- 
gan to  investigate  his  throbbing  brain,  and  the  end  of  the 
fabric  that  science  is  weaving  for  man  rests  in  the  hidden 
future.  The  story  I  have  related  is  a  true  one,  as  thou- 
sands of  faithful  men  who  unconsciously  have  been  led 
into  infidelity  have  experienced ;  and  as  the  faithful  fol- 
lowers of  sacred  teachings  can  also  perceive,  who 
recognize  that  their  religion  and  the  hope  of  Heaven  is 
slipping  away  beneath  the  steady  inroad  of  the  heartless 
materialistic  investigator,  who  clothes  himself  in  the 
garb  of  science." 


CHAPTER   LII. 

WHAT    WOULD    HAPPEN    IF    A    CREVICE    SHOULD    OPEN    IN 
THE    ocean's    bottom  ? 

(An  exciting  interview  between  the  occult  guest  and  his  per- 
plexed host.) 

"Is  it  not  natural  to  suppose  that  a  mass  of  water  like 
this  great  lake  would  overflow  the  barrier  immediately, 
as  soon  as  the  surface  reached  the  upper  edge,  for  the 
pressure  of  the  immense  volume  must  be  beyond  calcula- 
tion?" 

"No,  for  it  is  height,  not  expanse,  which,  as  hydro- 
static engineers  understand,  governs  the  pressure  of 
water.  A  liquid  column,  one  foot  in  width,  would  press 
against  the  retaining  dam  with  the  force  of  a  body  of  the 
same  liquid,  the  same  depth,  one  thousand  miles  in  extent. 
Then  the  decrease  of  gravity  here  permits 
the  molecular  attraction  of  the  water's  mole- 
cules to  exert  itself  more  forcibly  than  would 
be  the  case  on  the  surface  of  the  earth,  and 
this  holds  the  liquid  mass  together  more 
firmly." 

"See,"  he  observed,  and  dipping  his  finger 
into  the  water,  he  held  it  before  him  with  a 
drop  of  water  attached  thereto  (Figure  27), 
the  globule  being  of  considerable  size,  and 
FiG^27.        lengthened  as  though  it  consisted  of  some 
glutinous  liquid. 
"How   can  a   thin   stratum   of   water   give   rise   to   a 
volcanic  eruption?"  I  next  queried.     "There  seems  to  be 
no  melted  rock,  no  evidence  of  intense  heat,  either  be- 
neath or  about  us." 

"I  informed  you  some  time  ago  that  I  would  partially 
explain  these  facts.     Know  then,  that  the  theories  of  man 


If  a  Crevice  Should  Open  3  i  3 

concerning  volcanic  eruptions,  in  connection  with  a 
molten  interior  of  the  earth,  are  such  as  are  evolved  in 
ignorance  of  even  the  sub-surface  of  the  globe.  The 
earth's  interior  is  to  mankind  a  sealed  chamber,  and  the 
wise  men  who  elucidate  the  curious  theories  concerning 
natural  phenomena  occurring  therein  are  forced  to  draw 
entirely  upon  their  imagination.  Few  persons  realize 
the  paucity  of  data  at  the  command  of  workers  in  science. 
Theories  concerning  the  earth  are  formulated  from  so 
little  real  knowledge  of  that  body,  that  our  science  may 
be  said  to  be  all  theory,  with  scarcely  a  trace  of  actual 
evidence  to  support  it.  If  a  globe  ten  inches  in  diameter 
be  covered  with  a  sheet  of  paper,  such  as  I  hold  in  my 
hand,  the  thickness  of  that  sheet  will  be  greater  in  pro- 
portion to  that  of  such  a  globe  than  the  depth  men  have 
explored  within  the  earth  is  compared  with  the  thickness, 
of  the  crust  of  the  earth.  The  outer  surface  of  a  pencil 
line  represents  the  surface  of  the  earth ;  the  inner  surface 
of  the  line  represents  the  depth  of  man's  explorations ;. 
the  highest  mountain  would  be  represented  by  a  comma 
resting  on  the  line.  The  geologist  studies  the  substances 
that  are  thrust  from  the  crater  of  an  active  volcano,  and 
from  this  makes  conjectures  regarding  the  strata  beneath, 
and  the  force  that  casts  the  excretions  out.  The  results 
must  with  men,  therefore,  furnish  evidence  from  which 
to  explain  the  cause.  It  is  as  though  an  anatomist  would 
form  his  idea  of  the  anatomy  of  the  liver  by  the  secretion 
thrown  out  of  that  organ,  or  of  the  lung  texture  by  the 
breath  and  sputum.  In  fact,  volcanoes  are  of  several 
descriptions,  and  usually  are  extremely  superficial.  This 
lake,  the  surface  of  which  is  but  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  underground,  is  the  mother  of  an  exceptionally 
deep  one.  When  the  water  pours  over  this  ledge  it  strikes 
an  element  below  us,  the  metallic  base  of  salt,  which  lies, 
in  great  masses  in  some  portions  of  the  earth's  crust.* 


*  This  view  is  supported  in  theory  by  a  note  I  believe  to  have 
somewhere  seen  recorded.  Elsewhere  other  bases  are  mentioned' 
also.— J.  U.  L. 


3 1 4  Etidorhpa 

Then  an  immediate  chemical  reaction  ensues,  the  water 
is  dissociated,  intense  heat  results,  part  of  the  water 
combines  with  the  metal,  part  is  vaporized  as  steam,  while 
part  escapes  as  an  inflammable  gas.  The  sudden  libera- 
tion of  these  gases  causes  an  irregular  pressure  of  vapor 
on  the  surface  of  the  lake,  the  result  being  a  throbbing 
and  rebounding  of  the  attenuated  atmosphere  above, 
which,  in  gigantic  waves,  like  swelling  tides,  dashes 
great  volumes  of  water  over  the  ledge  beside  us,  and  into 
the  depth  below.  This  water  in  turn  reacts  on  fresh 
portions  of  the  metallic  base,  and  the  reflex  action  in- 
creases the  vapor  discharges,  and  as  a  consequence  the 
chamber  we  are  in  becomes  a  gas-holder,  containing 
vapors  of  unequal  gas  pressures,  the  resultant  agitation 
of  the  lake  from  the  turmoil  continues,  the  pulsations 
being  repeated  until  the  surface  of  the  lake  is  lowered  to 
such  a  degree  as  at  last  to  prevent  the  water  from  over- 
flowing the  barrier.  Finally  the  lake  quiets  itself,  the 
gases  slowly  disappear  by  earth  absorption,  and  by  escape 
from  the  volcanic  exit,  and  for  an  unrecorded  period  of 
time  thereafter  the  surface  of  the  lake  continues  to  rise 
slowly  as  it  is  now  doing." 

"But  what  has  this  phenomenon  to  do  with  the  vol- 
cano?" 

"It  produces  the  eruption ;  the  water  that  rushes  down 
into  the  chasm,  partly  as  steam,  partly  as  gas,  is  forced 
onward  and  upward  through  a  crevice  that  leads  to  the 
old  crater  of  the  presumed  extinct  but  periodically  active 
Mount  Epomeo.  These  gases  are  intensely  heated,  and 
they  move  with  fearful  velocity.  They  tear  off  great 
masses  of  stone,  which  the  resultant  energy  disturbances, 
pressure,  gas  and  friction,  redden  with  heat.  The  mix- 
ture of  gases  from  the  decomposed  water  is  in  large 
amount,  is  burning  and  exploding,  and  in  this  fiery  fur- 
nace, amid  such  convulsions  as  have  been  described,  the 
adjacent  earth  substance  is  fused  and  even  clay  is  melted, 
and  carried  on  with  the  fiery  blast.  Finally  the  current 
reaches  the  earth's  surface  through  the  funnel  passage. 


If  a  Crevice  Should  Open  3  1 5 

the  apex  of  which  is  a  volcano — the  blast  described  a 
volcanic  eruption." 

"One  thing  is  still  obscure  in  my  mind,"  I  said.  "You 
assert  that  the  reaction  which  follows  the  contact  of  the 
flowing  water  and  metallic  bases  in  the  crevice  below  us 
liberates  the  explosive  gases,  and  also  volumes  of  vapor 
of  water.  These  gases  rush,  you  say,  and  produce  a 
volcanic  eruption  in  a  distant  part  of  the  crust  of  the 
earth.  I  cannot  understand  why»they  do  not  rush  back- 
ward as  well,  and  produce  another  eruption  in  Kentucky. 
Surely  the  pressure  of  a  gas  in  confinement  is  the  same  in 
all  directions,  is  it  not?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "but  the  conditions  in  the  different 
directions  are  dissimilar.  In  the  direction  of  the  Ken- 
tucky cavern  the  passage  is  tortuous,  and  often  contracts 
to  a  narrow  crevice.  In  one  place  near  the  cavern's 
mouth,  as  you  will  remember,  we  had  to  dive  beneath 
the  surface  of  a  stream  of  water.  That  stratum  of  water 
as  effectually  closed  that  channel  to  the  earth  as  the 
stopper  prevents  water  escaping  from  a  bottle.  Between 
the  point  we  now  occupy  and  that  water  stopper  rest 
thousands  of  miles  of  quiescent  air.  The  inertia  of  a 
thousand  miles  of  air  is  great  beyond  your  compre- 
hension. To  move  that  column  of  air  plugged  by  the 
stopper  beyond  by  pushing  against  this  end  of  it,  and 
thus  shoving  it  instantly  out  of  the  other  end,  would 
require  greater  force  than  would  burst  the  one  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  of  inelastic  stone  above  us.  Then,  the 
friction  of  the  sides  is  another  thing  that  prevents  its  ac- 
complishment. While  a  gradually  applied  pressure  would 
in  time  overcome  both  the  inertia  of  the  air  and  the 
friction  of  the  stone  passages,  it  would  take  a  supply  of 
energy  greater  than  you  can  imagine  to  start  into  motion 
the  elastic  mass  that  stands  as  solid  and  immovable  as  a 
sentinel  of  adamant,  between  the  cavern  you  entered  and 
the  spot  we  now  occupy.  Time  and  energy  combined 
would  be  able  to  accomplish  the  result,  but  not  under 
present  conditions. 


3 1 6  Etidorhpa 

"In  the  other  direction  a  broad,  open  channel  reaches 
directly  to  and  connects  with  the  volcanic  shaft.  Through 
this  channel  the  air  is  in  motion,  moving  toward  the 
extinct  crater,  being  supplied  from  another  surface 
orifice.  The  gases  liberated  in  the  manner  I  have  de- 
scribed naturally  follow  the  line  of  least  resistance. 
They  turn  at  once  away  from  the  inert  mass  of  air  that 
rests  behind  us,  and  move  with  increasing  velocity 
toward  the  volcanic  exit.  Before  the  pressure  that 
might  be  exerted  toward  the  Kentucky  cavern  would 
have  more  than  compressed  the  intervening  column  of  air 
enough  to  raise  the  water  of  a  well  from  its  usual  level  to 
the  surface  of  the  earth,  the  velocity  in  the  other  direction 
would  have  augmented  prodigiously,  and  with  its  in- 
creased rapidity  a  suction  would  follow  more  than  suffi- 
cient to  consume  the  increasing  gases  behind." 

"Volcanoes  are  therefore  local,  and  the  interior  of  the 
earth  is  not  a  molten  mass  as  I  have  been  taught,"  I  ex- 
claimed. 

He  answered:  "If  men  were  far  enough  along  in  their 
thought  journey  (for  the  evolution  of  the  mental  side  of 
man  is  a  journey  in  the  world  of  thought),  they  would 
avoid  such  theories  as  that  which  ascribes  a  molten  in- 
terior to  the  earth.  Volcanoes  are  superficial.  They  are, 
as  a  rule,  when  in  activity  but  little  blisters  or  excoriations 
upon  the  surface  of  the  earth,  although  their  under- 
ground connections  may  be  extensive.  Some  of  them  are 
in  a  continual  fret  with  frequent  eruptions,  others,  like 
the  one  under  consideration,  awake  only  after  great 
periods  of  time.  The  entire  surface  of  this  globe  has 
been  or  will  be  subject  to  volcanic  action.  The 
phenomenon  is  one  of  the  steps  in  the  world-making, 
matter-levelling  process.  When  the  deposit  of  substances 
that  I  have  indicated,  and  of  which  much  of  the  earth's 
interior  is  composed,  the  bases  of  salt,  potash,  and  lime 
and  clay,  is  exhausted,  there  will  be  no  further  volcanic 
action  from  this  cause,  and  in  some  places  this  deposit  has 


If  a  Crevice  Should  Open  3 1 7 

already  disappeared  or  is  covered  deeply  by  layers  of 
earth  that  serve  as  a  protection." 

"Is  water,  then,  the  universal  cause  of  volcanoes?" 

"Water  and  air  together  cause  most  of  them.  The 
action  of  water  and  its  vapor  produces  from  metallic 
space  dust,  limestone,  and  clay  soil,  potash  and  soda  salts. 
This  perfectly  rational  and  natural  action  must  continue 
as  long  as  there  is  water  above  and  free  elementary  bases 
in  contact  with  the  earth  bubbles.  Volcanoes,  earth- 
quakes, geysers,  mud  springs  and  hot  springs  are  the 
natural  result  of  that  reaction.  Mountains  are  thereby 
forming  by  upheavals  from  beneath,  and  the  correspond- 
ing surface  valleys  are  consequently  filling  up,  either  by 
the  slow  deposit  of  the  matter  from  the  saline  water  of 
hot  springs,  or  by  the  sudden  eruption  of  a  new  or  pre- 
sumably extinct  volcano." 

"What  would  happen  if  a  crevice  in  the  bottom  of  the 
ocean  should  conduct  the  waters  of  the  ocean  into  a  de- 
posit of  metallic  bases?" 

"That  often  occurs,"  was  the  reply ;  "a  volcanic  wave 
results,  and  a  volcano  may  thus  rise  from  the  ocean's 
depths." 

"Is  there  any  danger  to  the  earth  itself?  May  it  not  be 
riven  into  fragments  from  such  a  convulsion?"  I  hesitat- 
ingly questioned. 

"No;  while  the  configuration  of  continents  is  con- 
tinually being  altered,  each  disturbance  is  practically 
superficial,  and  of  limited  area." 

"But,"  I  persisted,  "the  rigid,  solid  earth  may  be 
blown  to  fragments ;  in  such  convulsions  a  result  like 
that  seems  not  impossible." 

"You  argue  from  an  erroneous  hypothesis.  The  earth 
is  neither  rigid  nor  solid." 

"True,"  I  answered.  "If  it  were  solid  I  could  not  be  a 
hundred  miles  beneath  its  surface  in  conversation  with 
another  being ;  but  there  cannot  be  many  such  cavities  as 
that  which  we  are  now  traversing,  and  they  cannot  surely 


3 1  8  Etidorhpa 

extend  entirely  through  its  mass ;  the  great  weight  of  the 
superincumbent  material  would  crush  together  the 
strongest  materials,  if  a  globe  as  large  as  our  earth  were 
extensively  honeycombed  in  this  manner." 

"Quite  the  contrary,"  he  replied;  "and  here  let  me,  for 
the  first  time,  enlighten  you  as  to  the  interior  structure  of 
the  terrestrial  globe.  The  earth-forming  principle  con- 
sists of  an  invisible  sphere  of  energy  that,  spinning 
through  space,  supports  the  space  dust  which  collects  on 
it,  as  dust  on  a  bubble.  By  gradual  accumulation  of  sub- 
stance on  that  sphere  a  hollow  ball  has  resulted,  on  the 
outer  surface  of  which  you  have  hitherto  dwelt.  The 
crust  of  the  earth  is  comparatively  thin,  not  more  than 
eight  hundred  miles  in  average  thickness,  and  is  held  in 
position  by  the  central  sphere  of  energy  that  now  exists 
at  a  distance  of  about  seven  hundred  miles  beneath  the 
ocean  level.  The  force  inherent  to  this  sphere  manifests 
itself  upon  the  matter  which  it  supports  on  both  sides, 
rendering  matter  lighter  the  nearer  it  lies  to  the  centre 
sphere.  In  other  words,  let  me  say  to  you :  "The  crust 
or  shell,  which  I  have  just  described  as  being  but  about 
eight  hundred  miles  in  thickness,  is  firm  and  solid  on 
both  its  convex  and  concave  surfaces,  but  gradually  loses 
in  weight,  whether  we  penetrate  from  the  outer  surface 
toward  the  centre,  or  from  any  point  of  the  inner  surface 
toward  the  outside,  until  at  the  central  sphere  matter  has 
no  weight  at  all.    Do  you  conceive  mv  meaning?" 

"No." 

"Then  I  will  instruct  you ;  listen  to  what  I  have  to  say- 
concerning  matter  and  motion." 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

MATTER   IS   RETARDED   MOTION. 

(A  remarkable  conversation  concerning  world  growth  which- 
recent  events  seem  to  bring  into  conspicuity.) 

"It  is  possible — is  it  not — for  you  to  imagine  a  con- 
tinuous volley  of  iron  balls  passing  near  you  in  one  line, 
in  a  horizontal  direction,  with  considerable  velocity? 
Suppose  that  a  pane  of  glass  were  to  be  gradually  moved 
so  that  a  corner  of  it  would  be  struck  by  one  of  the  balls ; 
then  the  entire  sheet  of  glass  would  be  shivered  by  the 
concussion,  even  though  the  bullet  struck  but  a  single 
spot  of  glass,  the  point  of  contact  covering  only  a  small 
area.  Imagine  now  that  the  velocity  of  the  volley  of  bul- 
lets be  increased  a  thousand-fold ;  then  a  plate  of  glass 
thrust  into  their  track  would  be  smoothly  cut,  as  though 
with  a  file  that  would  gnaw  its  way  without  producing 
a  single  radiating  fracture.  A  person  standing  near  the 
volley  would  now  hear  a  deep  purr  or  growling  sound, 
caused  by  the  friction  between  the  bullets  and  the  air. 
Increase  gradually  the  rapidity  of  their  motion,  and  this 
growl  would  become  more  acute,  passing  from  a  deep, 
low  murmur  into  one  less  grave,  and  as  the  velocity  in- 
creased the  tone  would  become  sharper  and  at  last  pierc- 
ingly shrill.  Increase  now  the  rapidity  of  the  train  of 
bullets  again,  and  again  the  notes  would  decrease  in  turn, 
passing  back  again  successively  through  the  several  keys 
that  had  preceded,  and  finally  would  reach  the  low  growl 
which  first  struck  the  ear,  and  with  a  further  increase  of 
speed  silence  would  ensue,  silence  evermore,  regardless 
of  increasing  velocity.  From  these  hundreds  of  miles  in 
a  second  at  which  the  volley  is  now  passing,  let  the 
rapidity  be  augmented  a  thousand  times,  reaching  in  their 


320  Etidorhpa 

flight  into  millions  of  miles  each  second,  and  to  the  eye, 
from  the  point  where  the  sound  disappeared,  as  the 
velocity  increased,  a  dim  redness  would  appear,  a  glow 
just  perceptible,  indicating  to  the  sense  of  sight  by  a 
continuous  line  the  track  of  the  moving  missiles.  To  all 
appearance,  the  line  would  be  as  uniform  as  an  il- 
luminated pencil  mark,  even  though  the  several  integral 
bullets  of  the  trail  might  be  separated  one  from  another 
by  miles  of  space.  Let  a  pane  of  glass  now  be  thrust 
across  their  track,  and  from  the  point  of  contact  a  shower 
of  sparks  would  fly,  and  the  edges  of  glass  close  to  either 
■side  of  the  orifice  would  be  shown  on  withdrawing  the 
glass  to  have  been  fused.  Conceive  now  that  the  velocity 
of  the  bullets  be  doubled  and  trebled  again  and  again,  the 
line  of  red  light  becomes  brighter,  then  brilliant,  and 
finally  as  the  velocity  increases  at  a  certain  point  pure 
white  results,  and  to  man's  sense  the  trail  would  now  be 
a  continuous  something,  as  solid  as  a  bar  of  metal  if  at  a 
white  heat,  and  (even  if  the  bullets  were  a  thousand  miles 
apart)  man  could  not  bring  proof  of  their  separate  exist- 
ence to  his  senses.  That  portion  of  a  pane  of  glass  or 
other  substance,  even  steel  or  adamant,  which  should 
cross  its  track  now  would  simply  melt  away,  the  portion 
■excised  and  carried  out  of  that  pathway  neither  showing 
itself  as  scintillations  nor  as  fragments  of  matter.  The 
solid  would  instantly  liquefy,  and  would  spread  itself  as 
a  thin  film  over  the  surface  of  each  ball  of  that  white 
hot  mass  of  fleeing  metal,  now  to  all  essential  conditions 
as  uniform  as  a  bar  of  iron.  Madly  increase  the  velocity 
to  millions  upon  millions  of  miles  per  second,  and  the 
heat  will  disappear  gradually  as  did  the  sound,  while  the 
bright  light  will  pass  backward  successively  through  the 
primary  shades  of  color  now  known  to  man,  beginning 
with  violet  and  ending  with  red,  and  as  the  red  fades 
away  the  train  of  bullets  will  disappear  to  the  sense  of 
man.  Neither  light  nor  sound  now  accompanies  the 
volley,  neither  the  human  eye  nor  the  human  ear  can  per- 
ceive its  presence.     Drop  a  pane  of  glass  or  any  other 


Matter  is  Retarded  Motion  321 

object  edgewise  through  it,  and  it  gives  to  the  sense  of 
man  no  evidence ;  the  molecules  of  the  glass  separate  from 
in  front  to  close  in  from  behind,  and  the  moving  train 
passes  through  it  as  freely  as  light,  leaving  the  surface 
of  the  glass  unaffected." 

"Hold,"  I  interrupted ;  "that  would  be  as  one  quality  of 
matter  passing  through  another  quality  of  matter  without 
disturbance  to  either,  and  it  is  a  law  in  physics  that  two 
substances  cannot  occupy  the  same  space  at  the  same 
time." 

"That  law  holds  good  as  man  understands  the  subject, 
but  the  bullets  are  no  longer  matter.  Motion  of  mass  was 
first  changed  into  motion  of  molecules,  and  motion  of 
molecule  became  finally  augmented  into  motion  of  free 
force  entities  as  the  bullets  disintegrated  into  molecular 
corpuscles,  and  then  were  dissociated,  atoms  resulting. 
At  this  last  point  the  sense  of  vision  and  of  touch  ceased 
to  be  affected  by  that  moving  column  (neither  matter 
nor  force),  and  at  the  next  jump  in  velocity  the  atoms 
themselves  disappeared,  and  free  intangible  motion  re- 
sulted— nothing,  vacancy. 

"This  result  is  the  all-pervading  spirit  of  space  (the 
ether  of  mankind),  as  solid  as  adamant  and  as  mobile  as 
vacuity.  If  you  can  reverse  the  order  of  this  phenomenon, 
and  imagine  an  irregular  retardation  of  the  rapidity  of 
such  atomic  motion  you  can  read  the  story  of  the  forma- 
tion of  the  material  universe.  Follow  the  chain  backward, 
and  with  the  decrease  of  velocity,  motion  again  becomes 
tangible  matter,  and  in  accordance  with  conditions  govern- 
ing the  change  of  motion  into  matter  from  time  to  time 
the  various  elements  successively  appear.  The  planets  may 
thus  grow  from  without  and  within,  and  so  it  is  that 
ethereal  space  can  generate  elemental  dirt.  If  you  can 
conceive  of  an  intermediate  condition  whereby  pure  space 
motion  becomes  partly  tangible,  and  yet  is  not  gross 
enough  to  be  earthy  matter,  you  can  imagine  how  such 
forces  as  man  is  acquainted  with,  light,  heat,  electricity, 
magnetism,  or  gravity  even,  are  produced,  for  these  are 


322  Etidorhpa 

also  disturbances  in  space  motion.  It  should  also  be  easily 
comprehended  that,  according  to  the  same  simple  prin- 
ciple, other  elements  and  unknown  forces  as  well,  now 
imperceptible  to  man's  limited  faculties,  could  be  and  are 
formed  outside  and  inside  his  field  of  perception." 

"I  fear  that  I  cannot  comprehend  all  this,"  I  answered. 

"So  I  apprehended,  and  perhaps  I  have  given  you  this 
lesson  too  soon,  although  some  time  ago  you  asked  me 
to  teach  you  concerning  the  assertion  that  electricity, 
light,  heat,  magnetism,  and  gravity  are  disturbances,  and 
you  said,  'Disturbances  of  what?'  Think  the  lesson  over, 
and  you  will  perceive  that  it  is  not  difficult.  Let  us  hope 
that  the  time  may  come  when  we  shall  be  able  to  glance 
beneath  the  rough,  material,  earth  surface  knowledge 
that  man  has  acquired,  and  experience  the  mind  ex- 
pansion that  leads  to  the  blissful  insight  possessed  by 
superior  beings  who  do  not  have  to  contend  with  the 
rasping  elements  that  encompass  all  who  dwell  upon  the 
surface  of  the  earth." 

I  pondered  over  these  words,  and  a  vague  light,  an 
undefined,  inexpressible  something  that  I  could  not  put 
into  words,  broke  into  my  mind ;  I  inferred  that  we  were 
destined  to  meet  with  persons  or  existences  possessed  of 
new  senses,  of  a  mind  development  that  man  had  not 
reached. 

"Do  you  say  that  the  atmosphere  is  composed  of  sub- 
stances unknown  to  man?" 

"Yes ;  several  of  them  are  gases,  and  others  are 
qualities  of  space  condition,  neither  gas,  liquid,  nor 
solid.*      One    particularly    interferes    with    light    in    its 


*  This  has  since  been  partly  supported  by  the  discovery  of  the 
element  Argon.  However,  the  statement  in  Etidorhpa  has  been 
recorded  many  years.  Miss  Ella  Burbige,  stenographer,  Newport, 
Ky.,  copied  the  original  in  1887;  Mr.  S.  D.  Rouse,  attorney, 
Covington,  Ky.,  read  it  in  1889;  Mr.  Russell  Errett,  editor  of  the 
Christian  Standard,  in  1890.  and  Mr.  H.  C.  Meader,  President 
of  the  American  Ticket  Brokers'  Association,  in  1892.  It  seems 
proper  to  make  this  explanation  in  order  to  absolve  the  author 
from  any  charge  of  plagiarism,  for  each  of  these  persons  will 
recall  distinctly  this,  then  improbable,  assertion.— J.  U.  L.,  1895. 


Matter  is  Retarded  Motion  323 

passage.  It  is  an  entity  that  is  not  moved  by  the  motion 
of  the  air,  and  is  unequally  distributed  over  the  earth's 
surface.  As  we  ascend  above  the  earth  it  decreases,  so  it 
does  as  we  descend  into  it.  It  is  not  vapor  of  water,  is 
neither  smoke,  nor  a  true  gas,  and  is  as  yet  sensible  to 
man  only  by  its  power  of  modifying  the  intensity  of  light. 
It  has  no  color,  is  chemically  inactive,  and  yet  modifies 
the  sun's  rays  so  as  to  blot  objects  from  view  at  a  com- 
paratively small  distance  from  a  person  on  the  face  of  the 
earth.  That  this  fact  is  known  to  man  is  evident  from 
the  knowledge  he  possesses  of  the  difference  in  the  power 
of  his  organs  of  vision  at  different  parts  of  the  earth,  for 
his  sight  is  especially  acute  on  the  table-lands  of  the 
Western  Territories." 

"I  have  been  told,"  I  answered,  "that  vapor  of  water 
causes  this  obscuration  or  absorption  of  light." 

"Vapor  of  water,  unless  in  strata  of  different  densities, 
is  absolutely  transparent,  and  presents  no  obstacle  to  the 
passage  of  light,"  he  said.  "When  vapor  obstructs  light 
it  is  owing  to  impurities  contained  in  it,  to  currents  of 
varying  densities  or  wave  motions,  or  to  a  mechanical 
mixture  of  condensed  water  and  air,  whereby  multitudes 
of  tiny  globular  water  surfaces  are  produced.  Pure 
vapor  of  water,  free  from  motion,  is  passive  to  the  sun- 
light." 

"I  can  scarcely  believe  that  a  substance  such  as  you  de- 
scribe, or  that  any  constituent  of  the  air,  can  have 
escaped  the  perception  of  the  chemist,"  I  replied. 

In,  as  I  thought,  a  facetious  manner  he  repeated  after 
me  the  word  "chemist,"  and  continued : 

"Have  chemists  detected  the  ether  of  Aristotle  that 
you  have  mentioned  and  I  have  defined,  which  scientists, 
nevertheless,  accept  pervades  all  space  and  every  de- 
scription of  matter,  and  that  I  have  told  you  is  really  mat- 
ter itself  changed  into  ultra  atomic  motion?  Have  chem- 
ists explained  why  one  object  is  transparent,  and  another 
of  equal  weight  and  solidity  is  opaque?  Have  chemists 
told   why  vermilion   is   red  and   indigo   is   blue?    Have 


324  Etidorhpa 

chemists  told  you  why  the  prism  disarranges  or  distorts 
sunHght  to  produce  the  abnormal  hues  that  men  assume 
compose  elementary  rays  of  light?  Have  chemists  ex- 
plained anything  concerning  the  why  or  wherefore  of  the 
attributes  of  matter  or  force,  or  even  proven  that  the 
so-called  primary  forms  of  matter  or  elements  are  not 
compounds?  Upon  the  contrary,  does  not  the  evolution 
that  results  in  the  recorded  discoveries  of  the  chemist 
foretell  or  at  least  indicate  the  possible  future  of  the 
art,  and  promise  that  surrounding  mysteries  are  yet  to  be 
developed  and  expanded  into  open  truths,  thus  elaborat- 
ing hidden  forces ;  and  that  other  forms  of  matter  and 
unseen  force  expressions  are  destined  to  spring  into  ex- 
istence as  the  sciences  progress?  The  chemist  of  to-day 
is  groping  in  darkness ;  he  is  a  novice  as  compared  with 
the  elaborated  chemist  of  the  near  future ;  the  imperfectly 
seen  of  the  present,  the  silent  and  unsuspected  must  be- 
come distinctly  visible  in  a  time  that  is  to  come,  and  a 
brightening  of  the  intellect  by  these  successively  upward 
steps,  upstairs  of  science,  will,  if  science  serves  herself 
best,  broaden  the  mind  and  give  power  to  the  imagina- 
tion, resulting  finally  in" — 

He  hesitated. 

"Go  on,"  I  said, 

"The  passage  of  mortal  man,  with  the  faculties  of  man 
intact,  into  communion  with  the  spirit  world." 


CHAPTER    LIV. 

"a  study  of  science  is  a  study  of  god/' — COMMUNING 
WITH   ANGELS. 

"This  is  incredible,"  I  exclaimed. 

"You  need  not  be  astonished,"  he  answered.  "Is  there 
any  argument  that  can  be  offered  to  controvert  the  as- 
sertion that  man  is  ignorant  of  many  natural  laws?" 

"I  can  offer  none." 

"Is  there  any  doubt  that  a  force,  distinct  and  separate 
from  matter,  influences  matter  and  vivifies  it  into  a  living 
personality  ?" 

"I  do  not  deny  that  such  a  force  exists." 

"What  then  should  prevent  this  force  from  existing 
separate  from  the  body  if  it  be  capable  of  existing  in  it?" 

"I  cannot  argue  against  such  a  position." 

"If,  as  is  hoped  and  believed  by  the  majority  of  man- 
kind, even  though  some  try  to  deny  the  fact,  it  is  possible 
for  man  to  exist  as  an  association  of  earth  matters,  linked 
to  a  personal  spirit  force,  the  soul,  and  for  the  spirit  force 
after  the  death  of  the  body  to  exist  independent  of  the 
grosser  attributes  of  man,  free  from  his  mortal  body, 
is  it  not  reasonable  to  infer  that  the  spirit,  while  it  is 
still  in  man  and  linked  to  his  body,  may  be  educated  and 
developed  so  as,  under  favorable  conditions,  to  meet  and 
communicate  with  other  spirits  that  have  been  previously 
liberated  from  earthly  bondage?" 

"I  submit,"  I  answered ;  "but  you  shock  my  sensibili- 
ties when  you  thus  imply  that  by  cold,  scientific  investi- 
gation we  can  place  ourselves  in  a  position  to  meet  the  un- 
seen spirit  world" — 

It  was  now  my  turn  to  hesitate. 

"Go  on,"  he  said. 

"To  commune  with  the  angels,"  I  answered. 


326  Etidorhpa 

"A  study  of  true  science  is  a  study  of  God,"  he  con- 
tinued. "Angels  are  organizations  natural  in  accordance 
with  God's  laws,  but  supernatural  in  their  relationships 
with  human  law  as  law  is  now  known.  They  appear 
superhuman,  because  of  our  ignorance  concerning  the 
higher  natural  forces.  They  exist  in  exact  accordance 
with  the  laws  that  govern  the  universe  of  matter,  force 
and  spirit ;  but  as  yet  the  attraction  between  clay  and 
clay-bound  spirit  is  so  great  as  to  prevent  the  enthralled 
soul  of  man  from  communicating  with  them.  The  faith 
of  the  religionist  is  an  example  of  the  unquenchable 
feeling  that  creates  a  belief  as  well  as  a  hope  that  there 
is  a  self-existence  separate  from  earthy  substances.  The 
scoffing  scientific  agnostic  working  for  other  objects 
must  yet  astonish  himself  by  elaborating  a  method  that 
will  demonstrate  these  facts,  and  then  empirical  religion, 
as  exemplified  by  the  unquestioning  faithful  believer,  and 
systematic  science  as  typified  in  the  experimental  ma- 
terialist, will  meet  on  common  ground." 


CHAPTER    LV. 


A    REMARKABLE   CONTEST. 


(In  which  I-Am-The-Man  proceeds  to  convince  Mr.  Drury 
that  matter  has  no  strength,  and  also  to  confound  him  in  unex- 
pected directions.) 

I,  Llewellyn  Drury,  had  been  so  absorbed  in  the 
fantastic  story  the  old  man  read  so  fluently  from  the 
execrably  written  manuscript,  and  in  the  metaphysical 
argument  which  followed  his  account  of  the  drink  vision 
he  had  introduced  so  artfully  as  to  lead  me  to  think  it 
was  a  part  of  his  narrative,  that  I  scarcely  noted  the 
passage  of  time.  Upon  seeing  him  suspend  his  reading, 
fold  the  manuscript,  and  place  it  in  his  pocket,  I  reverted 
to  material  things,  and  glancing  at  the  clock,  perceived 
that  the  hands  pointed  to  bed-time. 

"To-morrow  evening,"  said  he,  observing  my  glance, 
"I  will  return  at  nine  o-clock.  In  the  interim,  if  you  still 
question  any  part  of  the  story,  or  wish  further  information 
on  any  subject  connected  with  my  journey,  I  shall  be  pre- 
pared to  answer  your  queries.  Since,  however,  that  will 
be  your  last  opportunity,  I  suggest  that  you  make  notes 
of  all  subjects  that  you  wish  to  discuss." 

Then,  in  his  usual  self-possessed,  exquisitely  polite 
manner,  he  bowed  himself  out. 

I  spent  the  next  day  reviewing  the  most  questionable 
features  of  his  history,  recalling  the  several  statements 
that  had  been  made.  Remembering  the  humiliation  I  had 
experienced  in  my  previous  attempts  to  confute  him,  I 
determined  to  select  such  subjects  as  would  appear  the 
most  difficult  to  explain,  and  to  attack  the  old  man  with 
vehemence. 

I  confess,  that  notwithstanding  my  several  failures, 
and  his  successful  and  constant  elucidation  and  minute 


328  Etidorhpa 

details  in  regard  to  occurrences  which  he  related,  and 
which  anticipated  many  points  I  once  had  in  mind  to 
question,  misgivings  still  possessed  me  concerning  the 
truthfulness  of  the  story.  If  these  remarkable  episodes 
were  true,  could  there  be  such  a  thing  as  fiction?  If  not 
all  true,  where  did  fact  end  and  fancy  begin? 

Accordingly  I  devoted  the  following  day  to  meditating 
my  plan  of  attack,  for  I  felt  that  I  had  been  challenged  to 
a  final  contest.  Late  the  next  day,  I  felt  confident  of  my 
own  ability  to  dispossess  him,  and  in  order  further  to  test 
his  power,  when  night  came  I  doubly  locked  the  door  to 
my  room,  first  with  the  key  and  next  with  the  inside  bolt. 
I  had  determined  to  force  him  again  to  induce  inert  ma- 
terial to  obey  his  command,  as  he  had  done  at  our  first  in- 
terview. The  reader  will  remember  that  Professor 
Chickering  had  deemed  that  occurrence  an  illusion,  and 
I  confess  that  time  had  dimmed  the  vividness  of  the  scene 
in  my  own  mind.  Hence  I  proposed  to  verify  the  matter. 
Therefore,  at  the  approach  of  nine  o'clock,  the  evening 
following,  I  sat  with  my  gaze  riveted  on  the  bolt  of  the 
door,  determined  not  to  answer  his  knock. 

He  gave  me  no  chance  to  neglect  a  response  to  his  rap. 
Exactly  at  the  stroke  of  nine  the  door  swung  noiselessly 
on  its  hinges,  the  wizard  entered,  and  the  door  closed 
again.  The  bolt  had  not  moved,  the  knob  did  not  turn. 
The  bar  passed  through  the  catch  and  back  to  its  seat — 
I  sprung  from  my  chair,  and  excitedly  and  rudely  rushed 
past  my  guest.  I  grasped  the  knob,  wrenched  it  with  all 
my  might.  "V^ainly ;  the  door  was  locked,  the  bolt  was 
fastened.  Then  I  turned  to  my  visitor.  He  was  quietly 
seated  in  his  accustomed  place,  and  apparently  failed  to 
notice  my  discomposure,  although  he  must  have  realized 
that  he  had  withstood  my  first  test. 

This  pronounced  defeat,  at  the  very  beginning  of  our 
proposed  contest,  produced  a  depressing  effect ;  neverthe- 
less I  made  an  effort  at  self-control,  and  seating  myself 
opposite,  looked  my  antagonist  in  the  face.  Calm, 
dignified,  with  the  brow  of  a  philosopher  and  the  counte- 


A  Remarkable  Contest 


329 


nance  of  a  philanthropist,  a  perfect  type  of  the  exquisite 
gentleman  and  the  cultured  scholar,  my  guest,  as  serene 
and  complacent  as  though,  instead  of  an  intruder,  he  were 
an  invited  participant  of  the  comforts  of  my  fireside,  or 
even  the  host  himself,  laid  his  hat  upon  the  table,  stroked 
his  silvery,  translucent  beard,  and  said : 

"Well?" 

I  accepted  the  challenge,  for  the  word,  as  he  empha- 
sized it,  was  a  challenge,  and  hurled  at  him,  in  hopes  to 
catch  him  unprepared,  the  following  abrupt  sentence : 

"I  doubt  the  possibility  of  the  existence  of  a  great 
cavern  such  as  you  have  described.  The  superincumbent 
mass  of  earth  would  crush  the  strongest  metal.  No  ma- 
terial known  to  man  could  withstand  a  pressure  so  great 
as  would  overlie  an  arch  as  large  as  that  you  depict ;  ma- 
terial would  succumb  even  if  the  roof  were  made  of 
steel." 

"Do  not  be  so  positive,"  he  replied.  "By  what  authority 
do  you  make  this  assertion?' 

"By  the  authority  of  common  sense  as  opposed  to  an 
unreasonable  hypothesis.  You  should  know  that  there  is 
a  limit  to  the  strength  of  all  things,  and  that  no  substance 
is  capable  of  making  an  arch  of  thousands  of  miles, 
which,  according  to  your  assertion,  must  have  been  the 
diameter  of  the  roof  of  your  inland  sea." 

"Ah,"  he  replied,  "and  so  you  again  crush  my  facts 
with  your  theory.     Well,  let  me  ask  a  question." 

"Proceed." 

"Did  you  ever  observe  a  Rubble  resting  on  a  bubble?" 

"Yes." 

"Did  you  ever  place  a  pipe-stem  in  a  partly  filled  bowl 
of  soap  water,  and  by  blowing  through  it  fill  the  bowl 
with  bubbles?" 

"Yes." 

"Did  you  ever  calculate  the  tensile  strength  of  the  ma- 
terial from  which  you  blew  the  bubble?" 

"No;  for  soap  water  has  no  appreciable  strength." 

"And  yet  you  know  that  a  bubble  made  of  suds  has  not 


330 


Etidorhpa 


only  strength,  but  elasticity.    Suppose  a  bubble  of  energy 
floating  in  space  were  to  be  covered  to  the  depth  of  the 
thickness  of  a  sheet  of  tissue-paper  with  the  dust  of  space, 
would  that  surprise  you?" 
"No." 

"Suppose   two   such   globes   of   energy,    covered    with 
dust,  were  to  be  telescoped  or  attached  together,  would 
you  marvel  at  the  fact  ?" 
"No." 

He  drew  a  picture  on  a  piece  of  paper,  in  which  one 
line  was  enclosed  by  another,  and  remarked : 

"The   pencil    mark    on    this    paper    is    proportionately 
thicker  than  the  crust  of  the  earth  over  the  earth  cavern 
I  have  described.     Even  if  it  were  made  of  soapsuds,  it 
could  revolve  through  space  and  maintain  its  contour." 
"But  the  earth  is  a  globe,"  I  interjected. 
"You  do  not  mean  an  exact  globe?" 
"No;  it  is  flattened  at  the  poles." 

He  took  from  his  pocket 
two  thin  rubber  balls,  one 
slightly  larger  than  the 
other.  With  his  knife  he  di- 
vided the  larger  ball,  cutting 
it  into  halves.  He  then 
placed  one  of  the  sections 
upon  the  perfect  ball,  and 
held  the  arrangement  be- 
tween the  gaslight  and  the 
wall. 

"See;  is  not  the  shadow 
flattened,  as  your  earth  is, 
at  the  poles?" 

"Yes ;  but  the  earth  is  not 
a  shadow." 

"We  will  not  argue  that  point  now,"  he  replied,  and 
then  asked :  "Suppose  such  a  compound  shell  as  this  were 
to  revolve  through  space  and  continuously  collect  dust, 
most  of  which  at  the  earth's  temperature  formed  a  fluid 


AXIS 

Fig.  33. 
A  A,  telescoped  energy  spheres. 


A  Remarkable  Contest 


331 


(water),  would  not  that  dust  be  propelled  naturally  from 
the  poles?" 

"Yes ;  according  to  our  theory." 

"Perhaps,"  said  he,  "the  contact  edge  of  the  invisible 
spheres  of  energy  which  compose  your  earth  bubbles,  for 
planets  are  bubbles,  that  have  been  covered  with  water 
and  soil  during  the  time  the  energy  bubble,  which  is  the 
real  bone  of  the  globe,  has  been  revolving  through  space ; 
perhaps,  could  you  reach  the  foundation  of  the  earth  dust, 
you  would  find  it  not  a  perfect  sphere,  but  a  compound 
skeleton,  as  of  two  bubbles  locked,  or  rather  telescoped 
together.     (See  Figure  34.) 

"Are  you  sure  that  my  guide  did  not  lead  me  through 
the  space  between  the  bubbles  ?"  he  asked. 

Then  he  continued : 

"Do   not   be    shocked   at  axis 

what  I  am  about  to  assert, 
for,  as  a  member  of  mater- 
ialistic humanity,  you  will 
surely  consider  me  irrational 
when  I  say  that  matter,  ma- 
terials, ponderous  s  u  b  - 
stances,  one  and  all,  so  far 
as  theponderouspart  is  con- 
cerned, have  no  strength." 

"What!  no  strength?" 

"None  whatever." 

I  grasped  the  poker. 

"Is  not  this  matter?" 

"Yes." 

"I  cannot  break  it." 

"No." 

"Have  not  I  strength?" 

"Confine  your  argument  now  to  the  poker  ;  we  will  con- 
sider your  person  next.    You  cannot  break  it." 

"I  can  break  this  pencil,  though,"  and  I  snapped  it  in 
his  face. 

"Yes." 


AXIS 

FIG.  34. 

B  B,  telescoped  energy  spheres  cov- 
ered with  space  dirt,  inclosing 
space  between. 


332  Etidorhpa 

I  curled  my  lip  in  disdain, 

"You  carry  this  argument  too  far." 

"Why?" 

"I  can  break  the  pencil,  I  cannot  break  the  poker ;  had" 
these  materials  not  different  strengths  there  could  be  no- 
distinction  ;  had  I  no  strength  I  could  not  have  broken 
either." 

"Are  you  ready  to  listen?"  he  replied. 

"Yes ;  but  do  not  exasperate  me." 

"I  did  not  say  that  the  combination  you  call  a  poker 
had  no  strength,  neither  did  I  assert  that  you  could  not 
break  a  pencil." 

"A  distinction  without  a  difference;  you  play  upon 
words." 

"I  said  that  matter,  the  ponderous  side  of  material  sub- 
stances, has  no  strength." 

"And  I  say  differently." 

He  thrust  the  end  of  the  poker  into  the  fire,  and  soon 
drew  it  forth  red-hot. 

"Is  it  as  strong  as  before?" 

"No." 

"Heat  it  to  whiteness  and  it  becomes  plastic." 

"Yes." 

"Heat  it  still  more  and  it  changes  to  a  liquid." 

"Yes." 

"Has  liquid  iron  strength?" 

"Very  little,  if  any." 

"Is  it  still  matter?" 

"Yes." 

"Is  it  the  material  of  the  iron,  or  is  it  the  energy-  called 
heat  that  qualifies  the  strength  of  the  metal  ?  It  seems  to 
me  that  were  I  in  your  place  I  would  now  argue  that 
absence  of  heat  constitutes  strength,"  he  sarcastically  con- 
tinued. 

"Go  on." 

"Cool  this  red-hot  poker  by  thrusting  it  into  a  pail  of 
cold  water,  and  it  becomes  very  hard  and  brittle." 

"Yes." 


A  Remarkable  Contest  333 

"Cool  it  slowly,  and  it  is  comparatively  soft  and 
plastic." 

"Yes." 

"The  material  is  the  same,  is  it  not  ?" 

"Go  on." 

"What  strength  has  charcoal  ?" 

"Scarcely  any." 

"Crystallize  it,  and  the  diamond  results." 

"I  did  not  speak  of  diamond." 

"Ah !  and  is  not  the  same  amount  of  the  same  material 
present  in  each,  a  grain  of  diamond  and  a  grain  of  carbon  ? 
What  is  present  in  a  grain  of  diamond  that  is  not  present 
in  a  grain  of  carbon?" 

"Go  on." 

"Answer  my  question." 

"I  cannot." 

"Why  does  brittle,  cold  zinc,  when  heated,  become 
first  ductile,  and  then,  at  an  increased  temperature,  be- 
come brittle  again?  In  each  case  the  same  material  is 
•present." 

"I  do  not  know ;  but  this  I  do  know ;  I  am  an  organized 
being,  and  I  have  strength  of  body." 

The  old  man  grasped  the  heavy  iron  poker  with  both 
hands,  and  suddenly  rising  to  his  full  height,  swung  it 
about  his  head,  then  with  a  motion  so  menacing  that  I 
shrunk  back  into  my  chair  and  cried  out  in  alarm,  seemed 
about  to  strike,  with  full  force,  my  defenceless  brow. 

"My  God,"  I  shouted,  "what  have  I  done  that  you 
should  murder  me?" 

He  lowered  the  weapon,  and  calmly  asked : 

"Suppose  that  I  had  crushed  your  skull — where  then 
would  be  your  vaunted  strength?" 

I  made  no  reply,  for  as  yet  I  had  not  recovered  from  the 
mental  shock. 

"Could  you  then  have  snapped  a  pencil?  Could  you 
liave  broken  a  reed?  Could  you  even  have  blown  the 
dov^^n  from  a  thistle  bloom  ?" 

"No." 


334  Etidorhpa 

"Would  not  vour  material  bodv  have  been  intact?" 

"Yes." 

"Listen,"  said  he.  "Matter  has  no  strength,  matter 
obeys  spirit,  and  spirit  dominates  all  things  material. 
Energy  in  some  form  holds  particles  of  matter  together, 
and  energy  in  other  forms  loosens  them.  'Tis  this  im- 
ponderable force  that  gives  strength  to  substances,  not 
the  ponderable  side  of  the  material.  Granite  crushed  is 
still  granite,  but  destitute  of  rigidity.  Creatures  dead 
are  still  organic  structures,  but  devoid  of  strength  or 
motion.  The  spirit  that  pervades  all  material  things  gives 
to  them  form  and  existence.  Take  from  your  earth  its 
vital  spirit,  the  energy  that  subjects  matter,  and  your  so- 
called  adamantine  rocks  would  disintegrate,  and  sift  as 
dust  into  the  interstices  of  space.  Your  so-called  rigid 
globe,  a  shell  of  space  dust,  would  dissolve,  collapse,  and 
as  the  spray  of  a  burst  bubble,  its  ponderous  side  would 
vanish  in  the  depths  of  force." 

I  sat  motionless. 

"Listen,"  he  repeated.  "You  wrong  your  own  common 
sense  when  you  place  dead  matter  above  the  spirit  of  mat- 
ter. Atoms  come  and  go  in  their  ceaseless  trans- 
migrations, worlds  move,  universes  circulate,  not  because 
they  are  material  bodies,  but  because  as  points  of  matter, 
in  a  flood  of  force,  they  obey  the  spirit  that  can  blot  out 
a  sun,  or  dissolve  the  earth,  as  easily  as  it  can  unlink  two 
atoms.    Matter  is  an  illusion,  spirit  is  the  reality." 

I  felt  that  he  had  silenced  me  against  my  will,  and  al- 
though I  could  not  gainsay  his  assertions,  I  determined  to 
study  the  subject  carefully,  at  my  leisure. 

"As  you  please,"  he  interjected  into  my  musings ;  "but 
since  you  are  so  determined,  you  would  better  study  from 
books  that  are  written  by  authors  who  know  whereof  they 
write,  and  who  are  not  obliged  to  theorize  from  specula- 
tive data  concerning  the  intrastructural  earth  crust." 

"But  where  can  I  find  such  works?  I  do  not  know  of 
any." 

"Then,"  said  he,  "perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  cease 


A  Remarkable  Contest  335 

doubting  the  word  of  one  who  has  acquired  the  knowledge 
to  write  such  a  book,  and  who  has  no  object  in  mislead- 
ing you." 

"Still  other  questions  arise,"  I  said. 

"Well?" 

"I  consider  the  account  of  the  intra-earth  fungus  in- 
toxicant beyond  the  realm  of  fact." 

"In  what  respect  ?" 

"The  perfect  loss  of  self  that  resulted  immediately,  in 
an  instant,  after  swallowing  the  juice  of  the  fungus  fruit, 
so  that  you  could  not  distinguish  between  the  real  guide 
at  your  side  and  the  phantom  that  sprung  into  existence, 
is  incredible.  An  element  of  time  is  a  factor  in  the  oper- 
ation of  nerve  impressions." 

"Have  you  investigated  all  possible  anaesthetics?"  he 
asked. 

"Of  course  not." 

"Or  all  possible  narcotics?" 

"No." 

"How  long  does  it  require  for  pure  prussic  acid  to  pro- 
duce its  physiological  action?" 

"I  do  not  know." 

He  ignored  my  reply,  and  continued : 

"Since  there  exists  a  relative  difference  between  the 
time  that  is  required  for  ether  and  chloroform  to  produce 
insensibility,  and  between  the  actions  and  resultant  effects 
of  all  known  anaesthetics,  intoxicants  and  narcotics,  I 
think  you  are  hypercritical.  Some  nerve  excitants 
known  to  you  act  slowly,  others  quickly ;  why  not  others 
still  instantaneously?  If  you  can  rest  your  assertion  on 
any  good  basis,  I  shall  gladly  meet  your  questions ;  but  I 
do  not  accept  such  evidence  as  you  now  introduce,  and 
I  do  not  care  to  argue  for  both  parties." 

Again  I  was  becoming  irritated,  for  I  was  not  satisfied 
with  the  manner  in  which  I  upheld  my  part  of  the 
argument,  and  naturally,  and  as  is  usually  the  case  with 
the  defeated  party,  became  incensed  at  my  invincible  an- 
tagonist. 


336  Etidorhpa 

"Well,"  I  said,  "I  criticise  your  credulity.  The  drunk- 
ards of  the  drunkards'  cavern  were  beyond  all  credence. 
I  cannot  conceive  of  such  abnormal  creations,  even  in  il- 
lusion. Had  I  met  with  your  experiences  I  would  not 
have  supposed,  for  an  instant,  that  the  fantastic  shapes 
could  have  been  aug^ht  but  a  dream,  or  the  result  of  hal- 
lucination, while,  without  a  question,  you  considered  them 
real." 

"You  are  certainly  pressed  for  subjects  about  which  to 
complain  when  you  resort  to  criticising  the  possibilities 
in  creations  of  a  mind  under  the  influence  of  a  more 
powerful  intoxicant  than  is  known  to  surface  earth,"  he 
remarked.  "However,  I  will  show  you  that  Nature 
fashions  animals  in  forms  more  fantastic  than  I  saw,  and 
that  even  these  figures  were  not  overdrawn" — 

Without  heeding  his  remark,  I  interrupted  his  dis- 
course, determined  to  have  my  say : 

"And  I  furthermore  question  the  uncouth  personage 
you  describe  as  your  guide.  Would  you  have  me  believe 
that  such  a  being  has  an  existence  outside  an  abnormal 
thought-creation  ?" 

"Ah,"  he  replied,  "you  have  done  well  to  ask  these  two 
questions  in  succession,  for  you  permit  me  to  answer  both 
at  once.  Listen :  The  Monkey,  of  all  animals,  seems  to 
approach  closest  to  man  in  figure,  the  Siamang  Gibbon  of 
Asia,  the  Bald-headed  Saki  of  South  America,  with  its 
stub  of  a  tail,  being  nearest.  From  these  types  we  have 
great  deviations  as  in  the  Wanderer  of  India,  with  its 
whiskered  face,  and  the  Black  Macaque  of  the  Island  of 
Celebes,  with  its  hairy  topknot  and  hairless  stub  of  a  tail, 
or  the  well-known  Squirrel  Monkey,  with  its  long  supple 
tail,  and  the  Thumbless  Spider  Monkey,  of  South 
America.  Between  these  types  we  have  among  monkeys, 
nearly  every  conceivable  shape  of  limb  and  figure,  and  in 
color  of  their  faces  and  bodies  all  the  shades  of  the  rain- 
bow. 

"Some  Squirrels  jump  and  then  sail  through  the  air. 
The  Sloth  can  barely  move  on  the  earth.    Ant-eaters  have 


A  Remarkable  Contest  337 

no  teeth  at  all,  while  the  Grizzly  Bear  can  crush  a  gun 
barrel  with  its  molars. 

"The  Duck-billed  Platypus  of  South  Australia  has  the 
body  of  a  mole,  the  tail  of  a  raccoon,  the  flat  bill  of  a  duck, 
and  the  flipper  of  a  seal,  combined  with  the  feet  of  a  rat. 
It  lays  eggs  as  birds  do,  but  suckles  its  young  as  do  other 
mammalia.  The  Opossum  has  a  prehensile  tail,  as  have 
some  monkeys,  and  in  addition  a  living  bag  or  pouch  in 
which  the  female  carries  her  tiny  young.  The  young  of  a 
kind  of  tree  frog  of  the  genus  Hylodes  breathe  through 
a  special  organ  in  their  tails ;  the  young  of  the  Pipa,  a 
great  South  American  toad,  burrow  into  the  skin  of  the 
mother,  and  still  another  from  Chili,  as  soon  as  hatched, 
creep  down  the  throat  of  the  father  frog,  and  find  below 
the  jaw  an  opening  into  a  false  membrane  covering  the 
entire  abdomen,  in  which  they  repose  in  safety.  Three 
species  of  frogs  and  toads  have  no  tongue  at  all,  while  in 
all  the  others  the  tongue  is  attached  by  its  tip  to  the  front 
of  the  mouth,  and  is  free  behind.  The  ordinary  Bullfrog 
has  conspicuous  great  legs,  while  a  relative,  the  Coecilia 
(and  others  as  well)  have  a  head  reminding  of  the  frog, 
but  neither  tail  nor  legs,  the  body  being  elongated  as  if 
it  were  a  worm.  The  long,  slender  fingers  of  a  Bat  are 
united  by  means  of  a  membrane  that  enables  it  to  fly  like  a 
bird,  while  as  a  contrast,  the  fingers  of  a  Mole,  its  near 
cousin,  are  short  and  stubby,  and  massive  as  compared 
with  its  frame.  The  former  flies  through  the  air,  the 
latter  burrows  (almost  flies)  through  the  earth.  The 
Great  Ant-eater  has  a  curved  head  which  is  drawn  out 
into  a  slender  snout,  no  teeth,  a  long,  slender  tongue,  a 
great  bushy  tail,  and  claws  that  neither  allow  the  creature 
to  burrow  in  the  earth  nor  climb  into  trees,  but  which 
are  admirably  adapted  to  tear  an  ant-hill  into  fragments. 
Its  close  relatives,  the  Apar  and  Armadillo,  have  a  round 
body  covered  with  bony  plates,  and  a  short,  horny, 
curved  tail,  while  another  relative,  the  Long-tailed  Pango- 
lin, has  a  great  alligator-like  tail  which,  together  with  its 
body,  is  covered  with  horny,  overlapping  scales. 


338  Etidorhpa 

"The  Greenland  Whale  has  an  enormous  head  occupy- 
ing more  than  one-third  its  length,  no  teeth,  and  a  throat 
scarcely  larger  than  that  of  a  sucker  fish.  The  Golden 
Mole  has  a  body  so  nearly  symmetrical  that,  were  it  not 
for  the  snout,  it  would  be  difficult  to  determine  the 
location  of  the  head  without  close  inspection,  and  it  has 
legs  so  short  that,  were  it  not  for  the  powerful  claws,  they 
would  not  be  observed  at  all.  The  Narwhal  has  a 
straight,  twisted  tusk,  a" — 

"Hold,  hold,"  I  interrupted ;  "do  you  think  that  I  am 
concerned  in  these  well-known  contras^l  in  animal  struc- 
ture?" 

"Did  you  not  question  the  possibility  of  the  description 
I  gave  of  my  grotesque  drunkards,  and  of  the  form  of  my 
subterranean  guide?"  my  guest  retorted. 

"Yes ;  but  I  spoke  of  men,  you  describe  animals." 

"Man  is  an  animal,  and  between  the  various  species  of 
animals  that  you  say  are  well  known,  greater  distinctions 
can  be  drawn  than  between  my  guide  and  surface-earth 
man.  Besides,  had  you  allowed  me  to  proceed  to  a  de- 
scription of  animal  life  beneath  the  surface  of  the  earth, 
I  would  have  shown  you  that  my  guide  partook  of  their 
attributes.  Of  the  creatures  described,  one  only  was  of 
the  intra-earth  origin — the  Mole — and,  like  my  guide,  it  is 
practically  eyeless." 

"Go  on,"  I  said ;  "  'tis  useless  for  me  to  resist.  And 
yet"— 

"And  yet  what  ?" 

"And  yet  I  have  other  subjects  to  discuss." 

"Proceed."  , 

"I  do  not  like  the  way  in  which  you  constantly  criticise 
science,  especially  in  referring  thereto  the  responsibilities 
of  the  crazed  anatomist.*  It  seems  to  me  that  he  was  a 
monomaniac,  gifted,  but  crazed,  and  that  science  was  un- 
fortunate in  being  burdened  with  such  an  incubus." 

"True,  and  yet  science  advances  largely  by  the  work 

*  See  Chapter  LI. 


A  Remarkable  Contest  339 

of  such  apparently  heartless  creatures.  Were  it  not  for 
investigators  who  overstep  the  bounds  of  established 
methods,  and  thus  criticise  their  predecessors,  science 
would  rust  and  disintegrate.  Besides,  why  should  not 
science  be  judged  by  the  rule  she  applies  to  others?" 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Who  is  more  free  to  criticise  religion  than  the  ma- 
terialistic man  of  science?" 

"But  a  religious  man  is  not  cruel." 

"Have  you  not  read  history?  Have  you  not  shuddered 
at  the  crimes  recorded  in  the  name  of  the  religions  of 
man  ?" 

"Yes ;  but  these  cruelties  were  committed  by  misguided 
men  under  the  cloak  of  the  church,  or  of  false  religions, 
during  the  dark  ages.  Do  not  blame  religion,  but  the  men 
who  abused  the  cause." 

"Yes,"  he  added,  "you  are  right ;  they  were  fanatics, 
crazed  beings,  men ;  yes,  even  communities,  raving  mad. 
Crazed  leaders  can  infuse  the  minds  of  the  people  with 
their  fallacies,  and  thus  become  leaders  of  crazed  nations. 
Not,  as  I  have  depicted  in  my  scientific  enthusiast,  one 
man  alone  in  the  privacy  of  his  home  torturing  a  single 
child,  but  whole  nations  pillaging,  burning,  torturing 
and  destroying.  But  this  is  foreign  to  our  subject.  Be- 
ware, I  reiterate,  of  the  science  of  human  biology.  The 
man  who  enters  the  field  cannot  foresee  the  end,  the  man 
who  studies  the  science  of  life,  and  records  his  experi- 
ments, cannot  know  the  extremes  to  which  a  fanatical  fol- 
lower may  carry  the  thought-current  of  his  leader.  I 
have  not  overdrawn  the  lesson.  Besides,  science  is  now 
really  torturing,  burning,  maiming  and  destroying  hu- 
manity. The  act  of  destruction  has  been  transferred  from 
barbarians  and  the  fanatic  in  religion  to  the  follower  of 
the  devotees  of  science." 

"No;  I  say,  no." 

"Who  created  the  steam  engine?  Who  evolves  im- 
proved machinery?  Who  creates  improved  artillery  and 
explosives?    Scientific  men." 


340  Etidorlipa 

He  hesitated. 

"Go  on." 

"Accumulate  the  maimed  and  destroyed  each  year ;  add 
together  the  miseries  and  sorrows  that  result  from  the 
explosions,  accidents  and  catastrophes  resulting  from 
science  improvements,  and  the  dark  ages  scarcely  offer  a 
parallel.  Add  thereto  the  fearful  destruction  that  fol- 
lows a  war  among  modern  nations,  and  it  will  be  seen  that 
the  scientific  enthusiast  of  the  present  has  taken  the  place 
of  the  misguided  fanatic  of  the  past.  Let  us  be  just. 
Place  to  the  credit  of  religion  the  good  that  religion  has 
done,  place  to  the  credit  of  science  the  good  that  science 
is  doing,  and  yet  do  not  mistake,  both  leave  in  their  wake 
an  atmosphere  saturated  with  misery,  a  road  whitened 
with  humanity's  bones.  Neither  the  young  nor  the  old  are 
spared,  and  so  far  as  the  sufferer  is  concerned  it  matters 
not  whether  the  person  has  been  racked  by  the  tortures  of 
an  inquisition  or  the  sword  of  an  infidel,  is  shrieking  in 
the  agony  of  a  scald  by  superheated  steam  or  is  mangled 
by  an  explosion  of  nitroglycerin." 

Again  he  hesitated. 

"Go  on." 

"One  of  science's  most  serious  responsibilities,  from 
which  religion  has  nearly  escaped,  is  that  of  supplying 
thought-food  to  fanatics,  and  from  this  science  cannot 
escape." 

"Explain  yourself." 

"Who  places  the  infidel  in  possession  of  arguments  to 
combat  sacred  teachings?  Who  deliberately  tortures 
animals,  and  suggests  that  biological  experimentation  in 
the  name  of  science,  before  cultured  audiences  even,  is 
legitimate,  such  as  making  public  dissections  of  living 
creatures?" 

"Enough,  enough,"  I  cried,  thinking  of  his  crazed 
anatomist,  and  covering  my  face  with  my  hands ;  "you 
make  my  blood  creep." 

Then  his  manner  changed,  and  in  his  usual  mild, 
pleasant  way,  he  said : 


A  Remarkable  Contest  341 

"Take  what  I  have  said  kindly ;  I  wish  only  to  induce 
your  religious  part  to  have  more  charity  for  your  scientific 
self,  and  the  reverse.  Both  religion  and  science  are  work- 
ing toward  the  good  of  man,  although  their  devotees  are 
human,  and  by  human  errors  bring  privations,  sufferings 
and  sorrows  to  men.  Neither  can  fill  the  place  of  the 
other;  each  should  extend  a  helping  hand,  and  have 
charity  for  the  shortcomings  of  the  other ;  they  are  not 
antagonists,  but  workers  in  one  field ;  both  must  stand 
the  criticisms  of  mutual  antagonists,  and  both  have  cause 
to  fear  the  evils  of  fanaticism  within  their  own  ranks  more 
than  the  attacks  of  opponents  from  without.  Let  the  re- 
ligious enthusiast  exercise  care ;  his  burning,  earnest 
words  may  lead  a  weak-minded  father  to  murder  an 
innocent  family,  and  yet  'tis  not  religion  that  commits  the 
crime.  Let  the  zealous  scientific  man  hesitate ;  he  piles  up 
fuel  by  which  unbalanced  minds  or  perverted  dispositions 
seek  to  burn  and  destroy  hopes  that  have  long  served  the 
yearnings  of  humanity's  soul.  Neither  pure  religion  nor 
true  science  is  to  blame  for  the  acts  of  its  devotees,  and 
yet  each  must  share  the  responsibility  of  its  human 
agents." 

"We  will  discuss  the  subject  no  further,"  I  said ;  "it  is 
not  agreeable." 

Then  I  continued : 

"The  idea  of  eternity  without  time  is  not  quite  clear 
to  me,  although  I  catch  an  imperfect  conception  of  the 
argument  advanced.  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  when  a 
soul  leaves  the  body,  the  earth  life  of  the  individual, 
dominated  by  the  soul,  is  thrown  off  from  it  as  is  the  snap 
of  a  whip-lash,  and  that  into  the  point  between  life  and 
death  the  hereafter  of  that  mortal  may  be  concentrated?" 

"I  simply  give  you  the  words  of  my  guide,"  he  replied, 
"but  you  have  expressed  the  idea  about  as  well  as  your 
word  language  will  admit.  Such  a  conception  of  eternity 
is  more  rational  to  one  who,  like  myself,  has  lived  through 
an  instant  that  covered,  so  far  as  mind  is  concerned,  a 
million  years  of  time,  than  is  an  attempt  to  grasp  a  con- 


342  Etidorhpa 

ception  of  an  eternity,  without  beginning  or  end,  by  bas- 
ing an  argument  on  conditions  governing  material  sub- 
stances, as  these  substances  are  known  to  man.  You  have 
the  germ  of  the  idea  which  may  be  simply  a  thought  for 
you  to  ponder  over;  you  can  study  the  problem  at  your 
leisure.  Do  not,  however,  I  warn  you,  attempt  to  com- 
prehend the  notion  of  eternity  by  throwing  into  it  the  con- 
ception of  time  as  men  accept  that  term,  for  the  very  word 
time,  as  men  define  it,  demands  that  there  be  both  a  be- 
ginning and  an  end.  With  the  sense  of  time  in  one's 
mind,  there  can  be  no  conception  of  the  term  eternity." 

Then,  as  I  had  so  often  done  before,  I  unwarily  gave 
him  an  opportunity  to  enlarge  on  his  theme,  to  my  disad- 
vantage. I  had  determined  not  to  ask  any  questions  con- 
cerning his  replies  to  my  criticism,  for  whenever  I  had 
previously  done  so,  the  result  had  been  disastrous  to  me. 
In  this  case  I  unwittingly  said : 

"Why  do  you  say  that  our  language  will  not  permit  of 
clearer  conceptions  than  you  give  ?" 

"Because  your  education  does  not  permit  you  to  think 
outside  of  words ;  you  are  word-bound." 

"You  astonish  me  by  making  such  an  arrogant  as- 
sertion. Do  you  mean  to  assert  that  I  cannot  think  with- 
out using  words?" 

"Yes.  Every  thought  you  indulge  in  is  circumscribed. 
You  presumably  attempt  to  throw  a  thought-line  forward, 
and  yet  you  step  backward  and  spin  it  in  words  that  have 
been  handed  you  from  the  past,  and,  struggle  as  you  may, 
you  cannot  liberate  yourself  from  the  dead  incubus.  At- 
tempt to  originate  an  idea,  and  see  if  vou  can  escape  your 
word-master?" 

"Go  on  ;  I  am  listening." 

"Scientific  men  think  in  scientific  language.  Poetical 
men  think  in  poetic  language.  All  educated  men  use  un- 
spoken words  in  thinking  of  their  subjects,  words  that 
come  to  them  from  the  past,  and  enslave  their  intellect. 
Thus  it  is  that  the  novelist  cannot  make  fiction  less  real 


A  Remarkable  Contest  343 

than  is  fact ;  that  scientists  cannot  commence  at  the  out- 
side, and  build  a  theory  back  to  phenomena  understood. 
In  each  case  the  foundation  of  a  thought  is  a  word  that 
in  the  very  beginning  carries  to  the  mind  a  meaning,  a 
something  from  the  past.  Each  thought  ramification  is 
an  offshoot  from  words  that  express  ideas  and  govern 
ideas,  yes,  create  ideas,  even  dominating  the  mind.  Men 
speak  of  ideas  when  they  intend  to  refer  to  an  image  in 
the  mind,  but  in  reality  they  have  no  ideas  outside  of  the 
word  sentences  they  unconsciously  reformulate.  Define 
the  term  idea  correctly,  and  it  will  be  shown  that  an  idea 
is  a  sentence,  and  if  a  sentence  is  made  of  words  already 
created,  there  can  be  no  new  idea,  for  every  word  has  a 
fixed  meaning.  Hence,  when  men  think,  they  only  rear- 
range words  that  carry  with  themselves  networks  of 
ideas,  and  thus  play  upon  their  several  established  mean- 
ings. How  can  men  so  circumscribed  construct  a  new 
idea  or  teach  a  new  science?" 

"New  words  are  being  created." 

"Language  is  slowly  progressing,  but  no  new  word 
adds  itself  to  a  language;  it  is  linked  to  thought-chains 
that  precede.  In  order  to  create  a  word,  as  a  rule,  roots 
are  used  that  are  as  established  in  philology  as  are  build- 
ing materials  in  architecture.  When  a  new  sound  is 
thrust  into  a  language,  its  intent  must  be  introduced  by 
words  already  known,  after  which  it  conveys  a  meaning 
derived  from  the  past,  and  becomes  a  part  of  mind  sen- 
tences already  constructed,  as  it  does  of  spoken  language. 
Language  has  thus  been  painfully  and  slowly  evolved  and 
is  still  being  enlarged,  but  while  new  impressions  may  be 
felt  by  an  educated  person,  the  formulated  feeling  is  in- 
separable, from  well-known  surviving  words." 

"Some  men  are  dumb." 

"Yes ;  and  yet  they  frame  mind-impressions  into  un- 
spoken words  of  their  own,  otherwise  they  would  be 
scarcely  more  than  animals.  Place  an  uneducated  dumb 
person  in  a  room  with  a  complicated  instrument,  and  al- 


344  Etidorhpa 

though  he  may  comprehend  its  uses,  he  cannot  do  so  un- 
less he  frames  sense-impressions  into,  what  is  to  him,  a 
formulated  mind-word  sequence." 

"But  he  can  think  about  it." 

"No ;  unless  he  has  already  constructed  previous  im- 
pressions into  word-meanings  of  his  own,  he  cannot  think 
about  it  at  all.  Words,  whether  spoken  or  unspoken,  un- 
derlie all  ideas.  Try,  if  you  believe  I  am  mistaken,  try  to 
think  of  any  subject  outside  of  words." 

I  sat  a  moment,  and  mentally  attempted  the  task,  and 
shook  my  head. 

"Then,"  said  the  old  man,  "how  can  I  use  words  with 
established  meanings  to  convey  to  your  senses  an  entirely 
new  idea?  If  I  use  new  sounds,  strung  together,  they 
are  not  words  to  you,  and  convey  no  meaning;  if  I  use 
familiar  words,  they  reach  backward  as  well  as  forward. 
Thus  it  is  possible  to  instruct  you,  by  a  laborious  course 
of  reasoning,  concerning  a  phenomenon  that  is  connected 
with  phenomena  already  understood  by  you,  for  your 
word-language  can  be  thrust  out  from  the  parent  stalk, 
and  can  thus  follow  the  outreaching  branches.  However, 
in  the  case  of  phenomena  that  exist  on  other  planes,  or  are 
separated  from  any  known  material  or  force,  as  is  the  true 
conception  that  envelops  the  word  eternity,  there  being 
neither  connecting  materials,  forces,  nor  words  to  unite 
the  outside  with  the  inside,  the  known  with  the  unknown, 
how  can  I  tell  you  more  than  I  have  done?  You  are 
word-bound." 

"Nevertheless,  I  still  believe  that  I  can  think  outside  of 
words." 

"Well,  perhaps  after  you  attempt  to  do  so,  and  fail 
again  and  again,  you  will  appreciate  that  a  truth  is  a  truth, 
humiliating  as  it  may  be  to  acknowledge  the  fact." 

"A  Digger  Indian  has  scarcely  a  word-language,"  I  as- 
serted, loath  to  relinquish  the  argument. 

"You  can  go  farther  back  if  you  desire,  back  to  primi- 
tive man ;  man  without  language  at  all,  and  with  ideas  as 


A  Remarkable  Contest  345 

circumscribed  as  those  of  the  brutes,  and  still  you  have 
not  strengthened  your  argument  concerning  civilized 
man.    But  you  are  tired,  I  see." 

"Yes ;  tired  of  endeavoring  to  combat  your  assertions. 
You  invariably  lead  me  into  the  realms  of  speculation, 
and  then  throw  me  upon  the  defensive  by  asking  me  to- 
prove  my  own  theories,  or  with  apparent  sincerity  you 
advance  an  unreasonable  hypothesis,  and  then,  before  I 
am  aware  of  your  purpose,  force  me  to  acquiesce  because 
I  cannot  find  facts  to  confute  you.  You  very  artfully 
throw  the  burden  of  proof  on  me  in  all  cases,  for  either 
by  physical  comparisons  that  I  cannot  make,  I  must  dem- 
onstrate the  falsity  of  your  metaphysical  assertions,  or 
by  abstract  reasonings  disprove  statements  you  assert  to 
be  facts." 

"You  are  peevish  and  exhausted,  or  you  would  perceive 
that  I  have  generally  allowed  you  to  make  the  issue,  and 
more  than  once  have  endeavored  to  dissuade  you  from 
doing  so.  Besides,  did  I  not  several  times  in  the  past 
bring  experimental  proof  to  dispel  your  incredulity? 
Have  I  not  been  courteous  ?" 

"Yes,"  I  petulantly  admitted ;  "yes." 

Then  I  determined  to  imitate  his  artful  methods,  and 
throw  him  upon  the  defensive  as  often  as  he  had  done 
with  me.  I  had  finally  become  familiar  with  his  process 
of  arguing  a  question,  for,  instead  of  coming  immediately 
to  his  subject,  he  invariably  led  by  circuitous  route  to  the 
matter  under  discussion.  Before  reaching  the  point  he 
would  manage  to  commit  me  to  his  own  side  of  the  sub- 
ject, or  place  me  in  a  denfenceless  position.  So  with 
covert  aim  I  began : 

"I  believe  that  friction  is  one  method  of  producing 
heat." 

"Yes." 

"I  have  been  told  that  the  North  American  Indians 
make  fires  by  rubbing  together  two  pieces  of  dry  wood." 

"True." 

"I  have  understood  that  the  light  of  a  shooting  star 


34^  Etidorhpa 

results  from  the  heat  of  friction,  producing  combustion 
of  its  particles." 

"Partly,"  he  answered. 

"That  when  the  meteoric  fragment  of  space  dust  strikes 
the  air,  the  friction  resulting  from  its  velocity  heats  it  to 
redness,  fuses  its  surface,  or  even  burns  its  very  substance 
into  ashes." 

"Yes." 

"I  have  seen  the  spindle  of  a  wheel  charred  by 
friction." 

"Yes." 

"I  have  drawn  a  wire  rapidly  through  a  handkerchief 
tightly  grasped  in  my  hands,  and  have  warmed  the  wire 
considerably  in  doing  so." 

"Yes." 

I  felt  that  I  had  him  committed  to  my  side  of  the  ques- 
tion, and  I  prepared  to  force  him  to  disprove  the  pos- 
sibility of  one  assertion  that  he  had  made  concerning  his 
journey. 

"You  stated  that  vou  rode  in  a  boat  on  the  underground 
lake." 

"Yes." 

"With  great  rapiditv?" 

"Yes." 

"Rapid  motion  produces  friction,  I  believe?" 

"Yes." 

"And  heat?" 

"Yes." 

"Why  did  not  your  boat  become  heated  even  to  red- 
ness? You  rode  at  the  rate  of  nine  hundred  miles  an 
hour,"  I  cried  exultingly. 

"For  two  reasons,"  he  calmly  replied;  "two  natural 
causes  prevented  such  a  catastrophe." 

And  again  he  warned  me,  as  he  had  done  before,  by 
saying : 

"While  you  should  not  seek  for  supernatural  agencies 
to  account  for  any  phenomena  in  life,  for  all  that  is  is 


"  \VK    I'ASSKl)     IHKorCH    CAVKRNS    KlLl.KD    WITH     CRKKIMNi;     KKl'TIl.ES. 


A  Remarkable  Contest  347 

natural,  neither  should  you  fail  to  study  the  differences 
that  varying  conditions  produce  in  results  already  known, 
A  miracle  ceases  to  be  a  miracle  when  we  understand  the 
scientific  cause  underlying  the  wonder ;  occultism  is 
natural,  for  if  there  be  occult  phenomena  they  must  be 
governed  by  natural  law ;  mystery  is  not  mysterious  if  the 
veil  of  ignorance  that  envelops  the  investigator  is  lifted. 
What  you  have  said  is  true  concerning  the  heat  that  re- 
sults from  friction,  but — 

"First,  the  attraction  of  gravitation  was  inconsiderable 
where  the  boat,  to  which  you  refer,  rested  on  the  water. 

"Second,  the  changing  water  carried  away  the  heat  as 
fast  as  it  was  produced.  While  it  is  true  that  a  cannon 
ball  becomes  heated  in  its  motion  through  the  air,  its  sur- 
face is  cooled  when  it  strikes  a  body  of  water,  notwith- 
standing that  its  great  velocity  is  altogether  overcome  by 
the  water.  The  friction  between  the  water  and  the  iron 
does  not  result  in  heated  iron,  but  the  contrary.  The 
water  above  the  rapids  of  a  river  has  practically  the  tem- 
perature of  the  water  below  the  rapids,  regardless  of  the 
friction  that  ensues  between  these  points.  Admit,  how- 
ever, that  heat  is  liberated  as  the  result  of  the  friction  of 
solids  with  water,  and  still  it  does  not  follow  that  this 
heat  will  perceptibly  affect  the  solid.  With  a  boat  each 
particle  of  water  carries  the  heat  away,  each  succeeding 
portion  of  water  takes  up  the  heat  liberated  by  that  pre- 
ceding it.  Thus  the  great  body  of  water,  over  which  our 
boat  sped,  in  obedience  to  the  ordinary  law,  became 
slightly  warmed,  but  its  effect  upon  the  boat  was  scarcely 
perceptible.  Your  comparison  of  the  motion  of  a  meteor 
with  that  of  our  boat  was  unhappy.  We  moved  rapidly, 
it  is  true,  in  comparison  with  the  motion  of  vessels  such  as 
you  know,  but  comparison  cannot  be  easily  drawn  be- 
tween the  velocity  of  a  boat  and  that  of  a  meteor.  While 
we  moved  at  the  rate  of  many  miles  a  minute,  a  meteor 
moves  many  times  faster,  perhaps  as  many  miles  in  a 
second.  Then  you  must  remember  that  the  force  of  gravi- 
tation was  so  slight  in  our  position  that" — 


34^  Etidorhpa 

"Enough,"  I  interrupted.  "We  will  pass  the  subject. 
It  seems  that  you  draw  upon  science  for  knowledge  to 
support  your  arguments,  however  irrational  they  may  be, 
and  then  you  sneer  at  this  same  method  of  argument  when 
I  employ  it." 

He  replied  to  my  peevish  complaint  with  the  utmost 
respect  by  calling  to  my  attention  the  fact  that  my  own 
forced  argument  had  led  to  the  answer,  and  that  he  had 
simply  replied  to  my  attacks.     Said  he : 

"If  I  am  wrong  in  my  philosophy,  based  on  your  science 
thought,  I  am  right  in  my  facts,  and  science  thought  is 
thus  in  the  wrong,  for  facts  overbalance  theory.  I  ask 
you  only  to  give  me  the  attention  that  my  statements 
merit.  I  am  sincere,  and  aim  to  serve  your  interests. 
Should  investigation  lead  you  hereafter  to  infer  that  I  am 
in  error,  at  our  final  interview  you  can  have  my  con- 
siderate attention.     Be  more  charitable,  please." 

Then  he  added : 

"Is  there  any  other  subject  you  wish  to  argue?" 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  and  again  my  combativeness  arose ; 
"yes.  One  of  the  truly  edifying  features  of  your  nar- 
rative is  that  of  the  intelligent  guide,"  and  I  emphasized 
the  word  intelligent,  and  curled  up  my  lip  in  a  sarcastic 
manner. 

"Proceed." 

"He  was  verily  a  wonderful  being;  an  eyeless  creature, 
and  yet  possessed  of  sight  and  perception  beyond  that  of 
mortal  man ;  a  creature  who  had  been  locked  in  the  earth, 
and  yet  was  more  familiar  with  its  surface  than  a  phi- 
losopher ;  a  cavern-bred  monstrosity,  and  yet  possessed 
of  the  mind  of  a  sage;  he  was  a  scientific  expert,  a 
naturalist,  a  metaphysical  reasoner,  a  critic  of  religion 
and  a  prophet.  He  could  see  in  absolute  darkness  as  well 
as  in  daylight ;  without  a  compass  he  could  guide  a  boat 
over  a  trackless  sea,  and  could  accomplish  feats  that  throw 
Gulliver  and  Munchausen  into  disrepute." 

In  perfect  composure  my  aged  guest  listened  to  my 
cynical  and  almost  insulting  tirade.    He  made  no  effort  to 


A  Remarkable  Contest  349 

restrain  my  impetuous  sentences,  and  when  I  had  finished 
replied  in  the  polished  language  of  a  scholarly  gentleman. 

"You  state  truly,  construe  my  words  properly,  as  well 
as  understand  correctly." 

Then  he  continued  musingly,  as  though  speaking  to 
himself: 

"I  should  be  at  fault  and  deserve  censure  did  I  permit 
doubts  to  be  thrown  upon  so  clear  a  subject,  or  discredit 
on  so  magnanimous  a  person." 

Turning  to  me  he  continued : 

"Certainly  I  did  not  intend  to  mislead  you  or  to  be  mis- 
understood, and  am  pleased  to  find  you  so  earnest  a 
scholar." 

And  then  in  his  soft,  mild  manner  he  commenced  his 
detail  reply,  pouring  oil  upon  the  waters  of  my  troubled 
soul,  his  sweet,  melodious  voice  being  so  in  contrast  to  my 
rash  harangue.  He  began  with  his  expressive  and  often 
repeated  word,  "listen." 

"Listen.  You  are  right,  my  guide  was  a  being  wonder- 
ful to  mortals.  He  was  eyeless,  but  as  I  have  shown  you 
before,  and  now  swear  to  the  fact,  was  not  sightless ; 
surely,"  he  said,  "surely  you  have  not  forgotten  that  long 
ago  I  considered  the  subject  of  instinct  at  length.  He 
predicted  the  future  by  means  of  his  knowledge  of  the 
past — there  is  nothing  wonderful  in  that.  Cannot  a  civil 
engineer  continue  a  line  into  the  beyond,  and  predict 
where  the  projection  of  that  line  will  strike ;  can  he  not 
also  calculate  the  effect  that  a  curve  will  have  on  his  line's 
destiny?  Why  should  a  being  conversant  with  the  lines 
and  curves  of  humanity's  journey  for  ages  past  not  be 
able  to  indicate  the  lines  that  men  must  follow  in  the 
future?  Of  course  he  could  guide  the  boat,  in  what  was 
to  me  a  trackless  waste  of  water,  but  you  err  in  asserting 
that  I  had  said  he  did  not  have  a  guide,  even  if  it  were 
not  a  compass.  Many  details  concerning  this  journey 
have  not  been  explained  to  you ;  indeed,  I  have  acquainted 
you  with  but  little  that  I  experienced.  Near  surface  earth 
we  passed  through  caverns  filled  with  creeping  reptiles ; 


350  Etidorhpa 

through  others  we  were  surrounded  by  flying  creatures, 
neither  beast  nor  bird ;  we  passed  through  passages  of 
ooze  and  labyrinths  of  apparently  interminable  intra- 
earth  structures  ;  to  have  disported  on  such  features  of  my 
journey  would  have  been  impracticable.  From  time  to 
time  I  experienced  strains  of  melody,  such  as  never  before 
had  I  conceived,  seemingly  choruses  of  angels  were  sing- 
ing in  and  to  my  very  soul.  From  empty  space  about  me, 
from  out  the  crevices  beyond  and  behind  me.  from  the 
depths  of  my  spirit  within  me,  came  these  strains  in  notes 
clear  and  distinct,  but  yet  indescribable.  Did  I  fancy,  or 
was  it  real  ?  I  will  not  pretend  to  say.  Beautiful  flowers 
and  structures,  gorgeous  insects  and  inexplicable  scenes 
were  spread  before  me.  Figures  and  forms  I  cannot  at- 
tempt to  indicate  in  word  descriptions  ever  and  anon  sur- 
rounded, accompanied,  and  passed  me  by.  The  canvas 
conceptions  of  earth-bred  artists  bring  to  mind  no  forms 
so  strange  and  weird  and  yet  so  beautiful  as  were  these 
compound  beings.  Restful  beyond  description  was  it  to 
drink  in  the  indescribable  strains  of  poetry  of  motion  that 
I  appreciated  in  the  movements  of  fair  creatures  I  have 
not  mentioned,  and  it  was  no  less  soothing  to  experience 
the  soul  relief  wrought  by  the  sounds  about  me.  for 
musicians  know  no  notes  so  sweet  and  entrancing. 

"There  were  also,  in  side  caverns  to  which  I  was  led, 
combinations  of  sounds  and  scenes  in  which  floating 
strains  and  fleeting  figures  were  interwoven  and  inter- 
laced so  closely  that  the  senses  of  both  sight  and  hearing 
became  blended  into  a  single  sense,  new,  weird,  strange 
and  inexpressible.  As  flavor  is  the  combination  of  odor 
and  taste,  and  is  neither  taste  nor  odor,  so  these  sounds 
and  scenes  combined  were  neither  scenes  nor  sounds,  but 
a  complex  sensation,  new,  delicious.  Sometimes  I  begged 
to  be  permitted  to  stop  and  live  forever  'mid  those 
heavenly  charms,  but  with  as  firm  a  hand  as  when  help- 
ing me  through  the  chambers  of  mire,  ooze  and  creeping 
reptiles,  my  guide  drew  me  onward. 

"But  to  return  to  the  subject.     As  to  my  guide  being 


FI.iJWKKS    AM)    S'lKlCl  TKKS    HKAl'lll  11,,     INSECTS    <;(  )K(;KI)IS. 


A  Remarkable  Contest  351 

a  cavern-bred  monstrosity,  I  do  not  remember  to  have 
said  that  he  was  cavern-bred.  Did  I  say  that  he  was 
always  a  cavern  being?  Did  I  assert  that  he  had  never 
lived  among  mortals  of  upper  earth?  If  so,  I  do  not  re- 
member that  part  of  our  conversation.  He  was  surely 
a  sage  in  knowledge,  as  you  have  experienced  from  my 
feeble  efforts  in  explaining  the  nature  of  phenomena  that 
were  to  you  unknown,  and  yet  have  been  gained  by  me 
largely  through  his  instruction.  He  was  a  metaphysician, 
as  you  assert;  you  are  surely  right;  he  was  a  sincere, 
earnest  reasoner  and  teacher.  He  was  a  conscientious 
student,  and  did  not  by  any  word  lead  me  to  feel  that  he 
did  not  respect  all  religions,  and  bow  to  the  Creator  of 
the  universe,  its  sciences  and  its  religions.  His  demeanor 
was  most  considerate,  his  methods  faultless,  his  love  of 
Nature  deep,  his  patience  inexhaustible,  his  sincerity  un- 
impeachable. Yes,"  the  old  man  said,  "you  are  right  in 
your  admiration  of  this  lovely  personage,  and  when  you 
come  to  meet  this  being  as  you  are  destined  yet  to  do — 
for  know  now  that  you  too  will  some  day  pass  from  sur- 
face earth,  and  leave  only  your  name  in  connection  with 
this  story  of  myself — you  will  surely  then  form  a  still 
greater  love  and  a  deeper  respect  for  one  so  gifted,  and 
yet  so  self-sacrificing." 

"Old  man,"  I  cried,  "you  mock  me.  I  spoke  face- 
tiously, and  you  answer  literally.  Know  that  I  have  no 
confidence  in  your  sailor-like  tales,  your  Marco  Polo  his- 
tory." 

"Ah !  You  discredit  Marco  Polo  ?  And  why  do  you 
doubt?" 

"Because  I  have  never  seen  such  phenomena,  I  have 
never  witnessed  such  occurrences.  I  must  see  a  thing  to 
believe  it." 

"And  so  you  believe  only  what  vou  see  ?"  he  queried. 

"Yes." 

"Now  answer  promptly,"  he  commanded,  and  his  man- 
ner changed  as  by  magic  to  that  of  a  master.  "Did  you 
ever  see  Greenland?" 


352  Etidorhpa 

"No." 

"Iceland?" 

"No." 

"A  geyser?" 

"No." 

"A  whale?" 

"No." 

"England?" 

"No." 

"France?" 

"No." 

"A  walrus?" 

"No." 

"Then  you  do  not  believe  that  these  conditions,  coun- 
tries and  animals  have  an  existence?" 

"Of  course  thev  have." 

"Why  ?" 

"Others  have  seen  them." 

"Ah,"  he  said ;  "then  you  wish  to  modify  your  as- 
sertion— you  only  believe  what  others  have  seen?" 

"Excepting  one  person,"  I  retorted. 

Then  he  continued,  seemingly  not  having  noticed  my 
personal  allusion : 

"Have  you  ever  seen  your  heart?" 

I  hesitated. 

"Answer,"  he  commanded. 

"No." 

"Your  stomach?" 

"No." 

"The  back  of  your  head?" 

I  became  irritated,  and  made  no  reply. 

"Answer,"  he  again  commanded. 

"I  have  seen  its  reflection  in  a  glass." 

"I  say  no,"  he  replied ;  "you  have  not." 

"You  are  impudent,"  I  exclaimed. 

"Not  at  all,"  he  said,  good-humoredly ;  "how  easy  it  is 
to  make  a  mistake.  I  venture  to  say  that  you  have  never 
seen  the  reflection  of  the  back  of  vour  head  in  a  mirror." 


A  Remarkable  Contest  353 

"Your  presumption  astounds  me." 

"I  will  leave  it  to  yourself." 

He  took  a  hand-glass  from  the  table  and  held  it  behind 
my  head. 

"Now,  do  you  see  the  reflection?" 

"No;  the  glass  is  behind  me." 

"Ah,  yes ;  and  so  is  the  back  of  your  head." 

"Look,"  I  said,  pointing  to  the  great  mirror  on  the 
bureau ;  "look,  there  is  the  reflection  of  the  back  of  my 
head." 

"No;  it  is  the  reflection  of  the  reflection  in  my  hand- 
glass." 

"You  have  tricked  me  ;  you  quibble !" 

"Well,"  he  said,  ignoring  my  remark ;  "what  do  you 
believe?" 

"I  believe  what  others  have  seen,  and  what  I  can  do." 

"Excluding  myself  as  to  what  others  have  seen,"  he 
said  facetiously. 

"Perhaps,"  I  answered,  relenting  somewhat. 

"Has  any  man  of  your  acquaintance  seen  the  middle  of 
Africa?" 

"No." 

"The  centre  of  the  earth  ?" 

"No." 

"The  opposite  side  of  the  moon?" 

"No." 

"The  soul  of  man?" 

"No." 

"Heat,  light,  electricity?" 

"No." 

"Then  you  do  not  believe  that  Africa  has  a  midland, 
the  earth  a  centre,  the  moon  an  opposite  side,  man  a  soul, 
force  an  existence?" 

"You  distort  my  meaning." 

"Well,  I  ask  questions  in  accord  with  your  suggestions, 
and  you  defeat  yourself.  You  have  now  only  one  point 
left.    You  believe  only  what  you  can  do?" 

"Yes." 


^N 


354  Etidorhpa 

"I  will  rest  this  case  on  one  statement,  then,  and  you 
may  be  the  judge." 

"Agreed." 

"You  cannot  do  what  any  child  in  Cincinnati  can  ac- 
complish. I  assert  that  any  other  man,  any  other  woman 
in  the  city  can  do  more  than  you  can.  No  cripple  is  so 
helpless,  no  invalid  so  feeble  as  not,  in  this  respect,  to  be 
your  superior." 

"You  insult  me,"  I  again  retorted,  almost  viciously. 

"Do  you  dispute  the  assertion  seriously?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  let  me  see  you  kiss  your  elbow." 

Involuntarily  I  twisted  my  arm  so  as  to  bring  the  elbow 
toward  my  mouth,  then,  as  I  caught  the  full  force  of  his 
meaning,  the  ridiculous  result  of  my  passionate  wager 
came  over  me,  and  I  laughed  aloud.  It  was  a  change  of 
thought  from  the  sublime  to  the  ludicrous. 

The  white-haired  guest  smiled  in  return,  and  kindly 
said: 

"It  pleases  me  to  find  you  in  good  humor  at  last.  I  will 
return  to-morrow  evening  and  resume  the  reading  of  my 
manuscript.  In  the  meantime  take  good  exercise,  eat 
heartily  and  become  more  cheerful." 

He  rose  and  bowed  himself  out. 


CHAPTER   LVI. 


WHY   AND    HOW. 


(Confronting  mankind  there  stands  a  sphinx — the  vast  Un- 
known.) 

Then  spoke  I-Am-The-Man. 

"Confronting  mankind  there  stands  a  sphinx — the 
vast  Unknown.  However  well  a  man  may  be  informed 
concerning  a  special  subject,  his  farthermost  outlook  is 
bounded  by  an  impenetrable  infinity." 

"Granted,"  I  interrupted,  "that  mankind  has  not  by 
any  means  attained  a  condition  of  perfection,  yet  you 
must  admit  that  questions  once  regarded  as  inscrutable 
problems  are  now  illuminated  by  the  discoveries  of 
science." 

"And  the  'discovered,'  as  I  shall  show,  has  only  trans- 
ferred ignorance  to  other  places,"  he  replied.  "Science 
has  confined  its  labors  to  superficial  descriptions,  not  the 
elucidation  of  the  fundamental  causes  of  phenomena." 

"I  cannot  believe  this,  and  question  if  you  can  prove 
what  you  say." 

"It  needs  no  argument  to  illustrate  the  fact.  Science 
boldly  heralds  her  descriptive  discoveries,  and  as  carefully 
ignores  her  explanatory  failures.  She  dare  not  attempt 
to  explain  the  why  even  of  the  simplest  things.  Why 
does  the  sparrow  hop  and  the  snipe  walk?  Do  not  tell 
me  this  is  beneath  the  notice  of  men  of  science,  for  science 
claims  that  no  subject  is  outside  her  realm.  Search  your 
works  on  natural  history  and  see  if  your  man  of  science, 
who  describes  the  habits  of  these  birds,  explains  the  rea- 
son for  this  evident  fact.  How  does  the  tree-frog  change 
its  color?  Do  not  answer  me  in  the  usual  superficial 
manner  concerning  the  reflection  of  light,  but  tell  me  why 


356  Etidorhpa 

the  skin  of  that  creature  is  enabled  to  perform  this 
function?  How  does  the  maple-tree  secrete  a  sweet, 
wholesome  sap,  and  deadly  nightshade,  growing  in  the 
same  soil  and  living  on  the  same  elements,  a  poison? 
What  is  it  that  your  scientific  men  find  in  the  cells  of  root 
or  rootlet,  to  indicate  that  one  may  produce  a  food,  and 
the  other  a  noxious  secretion  that  can  destroy  life  ?  Your 
microscopist  will  discuss  cell  tissues  learnedly,  will  speak 
fluently  of  physiological  structure,  will  describe  organic 
intercellular  appearances,  but  ignore  all  that  lies  beyond. 
Why  does  the  nerve  in  the  tongue  respond  to  a  sensation, 
and  produce  on  the  mind  the  sense  of  taste?  What  is  it 
that  enables  the  nerve  in  the  nose  to  perform  its  dis- 
criminative function  ?  You  do  not  answer.  Silver  is 
sonorous,  lead  is  not ;  why  these  intrinsic  dififerences  ? 
Aluminum  is  a  light  metal,  gold  a  heavy  one ;  what  reason 
can  you  offer  to  explain  the  facts  other  than  the  inade- 
quate term  density?  Mercury  at  ordinary  temperature  is 
a  liquid ;  can  your  scientist  tell  why  it  is  not  a  solid?  Of 
course  any  one  can  say  because  its  molecules  move  freely 
on  each  other.  Such  an  answer  evades  the  issue ;  why  do 
they  so  readily  exert  this  action  ?  Copper  produces  green 
or  blue  salts ;  nickle  produces  green  salts ;  have  you  ever 
been  told  why  they  observe  these  rules  ?  Water  solidifies 
at  about  thirty-two  degrees  above  your  so-called  zero ; 
have  you  ever  asked  an  explanation  of  your  scientific 
authority  why  it  selects  that  temperature?  Alcohol  dis- 
solves resins,  water  dissolves  gums ;  have  you  any  ex- 
planation to  offer  why  either  liquid  should  dissolve  any- 
thing, much  less  exercise  a  preference?  One  species  of 
turtle  has  a  soft  shell,  another  a  hard  shell ;  has  your 
authority  in  natural  history  told  you  why  this  is  so  ?  The 
albumen  of  the  egg  of  the  hen  hardens  at  one  hundred 
and  eighty  degrees  Fahrenheit ;  the  albumen  of  the  eggs 
of  some  turtles  cannot  be  easily  coagulated  by  boiling  the 
egg  in  pure  water  ;  why  these  differences  ?  Iceland  spar 
and  dog-tooth  spar  are  identical,  both  are  crystallized  car- 
bonate of  lime ;  has  your  mineralogist  explained  why  this 


Why  and  How  357 

one  substance  selects  these  different  forms  of  crystal- 
lization, or  why  any  crystal  of  any  substance  is  ever  pro- 
duced? Why  is  common  salt  white  and  charcoal  black? 
Why  does  the  dog  lap  and  the  calf  drink?  One  child  has 
black  hair,  another  brown,  a  third  red ;  why  ?  Search 
your  physiology  for  the  answer  and  see  if  your  learned 
authority  can  tell  you  why  the  life-current  makes  these 
distinctions?  Why  do  the  cells  of  the  liver  secrete  bile, 
and  those  of  the  mouth  saliva  ?  Why  does  any  cell  secrete 
anything?  A  parrot  can  speak;  what  has  your  anatomist 
found  in  the  structure  of  the  brain,  tongue  or  larynx  of 
that  bird  to  explain  why  this  accomplishment  is  not  as 
much  the  birthright  of  the  turkey?  The  elements  that 
form  morphine  and  strychnine  also  make  bread,  one  a 
food,  the  other  a  poison ;  can  your  chemist  offer  any  rea- 
son for  the  fact  that  morphine  and  bread  possess  such 
opposite  characters?  The  earth  has  one  satellite,  Saturn 
is  encompassed  by  a  ring;  it  is  not  sufficient  to  attempt 
to  refer  to  these  familiar  facts ;  tell  me,  does  your  earth- 
bound  astronomer  explain  why  the  ring  of  Saturn  was 
selected  for  that  planet  ?  Why  are  the  salts  of  aluminum 
astringent,  the  salts  of  magnesium  cathartic,  and  the  salts 
of  arsenum  deadly  poison?  Ask  your  toxicologist,  and 
silence  will  be  your  answer.  Why  will  some  substances 
absorb  moisture  from  the  air,  and  liquefy,  while  others 
become  as  dry  as  dust  under  like  conditions?  Why  does 
the  vapor  of  sulphuric  ether  inflame,  while  the  vapor  of 
chloroform  is  not  combustible,  under  ordinary  conditions  ? 
Oil  of  turpentine,  oil  of  lemon,  and  oil  of  bergamot  differ 
in  odor,  yet  they  are  composed  of  the  same  elements ; 
why  should  they  possess  such  distinctive,  individual  char- 
acteristics? Further  search  of  the  chemist  will  explain 
only  to  shove  the  word  why  into  another  space,  as  ripples 
play  with  and  toss  a  cork  about.  Why  does  the  newly 
born  babe  cry  for  food  before  its  intellect  has  a  chance  for 
worldly  education  ?    Why" — 

"Stop,"  I  interrupted ;  "these  questions  are  absurd." 
"So  some  of  your  scientific  experts  would  assert,"  he 


358  Etidorhpa 

replied ;  "perhaps  they  would  even  become  indignant  at 
my  presumption  in  asking  them,  and  call  them  childish ; 
nevertheless  these  men  cannot  satisfy  their  own  cravings 
in  attempting  to  search  the  illimitable,  and  in  humiliation 
or  irritation,  they  must  ignore  the  word  Why.  That  word 
Why  to  man  dominates  the  universe.  It  covers  all  phe- 
nomena, and  thrusts  inquiry  back  from  every  depth. 
Science  may  trace  a  line  of  thought  into  the  infinitely 
little,  down,  down,  beyond  that  which  is  tangible,  and  at 
last  in  that  far  distant  inter-microscopical  infinity,  mon- 
strous by  reason  of  its  very  minuteness,  must  rest  its 
labors  against  the  word  Why.  Man  may  carry  his  super- 
ficial investigation  into  the  immeasurably  great,  beyond 
our  sun  and  his  family  of  satellites,  into  the  outer  depths 
of  the  solar  system,  of  which  our  sun  is  a  part,  past  his 
sister  stars,  and  out  again  into  the  depths  of  the  cold 
space  channels  beyond ;  into  other  systems  and  out  again, 
imtil  at  last  the  nebulae  shrink  and  disappear  in  the  gloom 
of  thought-conjecture,  and  as  the  straggling  ray  of  light 
from  those  farthermost  outreaches,  too  feeble  to  tell  of  its 
origin  or  carry  a  story  of  nativity,  enters  his  eye,  he  covers 
his  face  and  rests  his  intellect  against  the  word  Why. 
From  the  remote  space  caverns  of  the  human  intellect, 
whether  we  appeal  to  conceptions  of  the  unknowable  in 
the  infinitely  little,  or  the  immeasurably  great,  we  meet 
a  circle  of  adamant,  as  impenetrable  as  are  the  frozen 
cliffs  of  the  Antarctic,  that  incomprehensible  word — 
Why! 

"Why  did  the  light  wave  spring  into  his  field  of  per- 
ception by  reflection  from  the  microscopic  speck  in  the 
depths  of  littleness,  on  the  one  hand ;  and  how  did  this 
sliver  of  the  sun's  ray  originate  in  the  depths  of  inter- 
stellar space,  on  the  other?" 

I  bowed  my  head. 


CHAPTER    LVII. 

I   SEEK   A   CONFIDANT. 

The  more  I  thought  over  the  foregoing  incidents  the 
more  dissatisfied  did  I  become  with  the  part  I,  Llewellyn 
Drury,  had  taken  therein. 

It  became  evident  that  my  personality  had  been  domi- 
nated by  a  man  experienced  in  many  phases  of  life's  study, 
as  yet  unknown  to  me,  and  as  I  revolved  the  matter  in  my 
mind  I  became  convinced  that  not  only  had  I  been  craftily 
toyed  with,  but  had  been  personally  discredited.  These 
thoughts  were  naturally  exasperating,  and,  as  I  felt  the 
spirit  of  rebellion  arise  within  me,  I  became  vindictive.  I 
not  only  wanted  to  exculpate  myself  before  myself,  but  I 
also  wished  to  prove  to  the  man  in  whose  power  I  had  been 
time  and  again  that  I  was  no  longer  a  subject  to  his 
dominating  will.  With  this  thought  in  mind  I  did  what 
I  should  have  done  long  before,  and  would  have  done 
but  for  my  former  rebuke  by  Professor  Chickering, 
sought  advice  from  another.  There  is  consolation  in  com- 
pany, even  if  neither  participant  can  assist  the  other. 
In  the  beginning  of  life,  before  we  become  arrogant  and 
self-conceited,  we  seek  the  solace  of  those  about  us,  and 
in  the  end  of  life,  after  we  become  aware  that  "all,  all  is 
vanity,"  we  turn  again  to  the  companionship  of  our  fel- 
low-men. In  the  beginning  of  my  experience  with  this 
strange  being,  I  had  sought  the  advice  of  one  I  hoped  to 

*  The  following  chapters  were  left  out  of  Etidorhpa  preceding 
the  first  popular  edition,  which  corresponds  with  what  would  have 
been  the  eleventh  Cincinnati  edition.  Let  us  hope  that  the  reader 
who  has  followed  the  work  to  this  point  may  find  that  these  chap- 
ters make  an  appropriate  ending  to  this  "remarkable  story,"  and  a 
fitting  farewell  to  Llewelivn  Drury  and  his  mysterious  guest, 
I-Am-The-Man-Who-Did-It. 


360  Etidorhpa 

lean  upon,  and  now,  when  the  indications  pointed  to  the 
closing  episode,  I  turned  again  to  that  humanity  of  which 
I  was  a  part. 

Seeking  an  aged  scientific  friend,  in  whom  I  had  every 
confidence,  and  in  whom  I  could  trust  implicitly,  I  opened 
my  heart  and  gave  without  reservation,  in  minutest  detail, 
all  that  I  knew  of  the  history  that  has  been  herein  re- 
lated. Instead  of  passing  the  story  as  the  fantasia  of  a 
disordered  mind  he  received  it  in  attentive  earnestness. 

"There  are,  I  believe,"  said  he,  "psychological  con- 
ditions that  are  as  yet  misconstrued,  and  there  are  others 
unknown.  Indeed,"  he  added,  "it  seems  to  me  that  your 
guest  has  more  than  once  aimed  to  lead  you  to  infer  that 
your  mind  could  be  dominated  by  that  of  another,  as  for 
example,  with  the  hydrostatic  experiment  when  he  asked 
you  if  you  were  sure  your  perception  was  normal  and  re- 
ferred to  the  influence  his  presence  exerted  over  your 
mind.  He  has  seemingly  played  on  your  credulity,  and 
knowingly  in  all  arguments  has  taken  what  is,  according 
to  our  present  logic,  the  weak  side,  aiming  to  convince 
you  that  the  other  (natural)  side  is  unreal.  In  several 
cases  it  seems  as  though  he  made  statements  that  cannot 
be  true,  and  then  artfully  toyed  with  your  mind  until  he 
actually  led  you  to  reason  them  out  as  natural." 

"Name  some  of  these  statements." 

"Vitalized  darkness  is  one.  It  is  preposterous  to  argue 
that  a  ray  of  energy-  exists  that  can  penetrate  opaque 
bodies.  Such  a  condition  would  discredit  science.  With 
the  disproving  of  this  irrational  myth  story  concerning 
the  light  that  penetrates  opaque  bodies  his  skilfully  de- 
vised earth  illumination  disappears.  There  cannot  be 
such  a  ray  of  energy.  Next,  the  statement  concerning 
new  elements  in  the  atmosphere  is  false.  If  chemists  have 
established  any  point  absolutely  it  is  the  constitution  of 
the  air.  In  making  this  assertion  he  has  discredited  Gul- 
liver, for  science  has  positively  demonstrated  that  oxygen, 
hydrogen  and  nitrogen,  with  traces  of  well-known 
gaseous  impurities,  are  all  there  is  of  air. 


I  Seek  a  Confidant  361 

"And  now  I  would  call  to  your  attention  that  the  ob- 
ject you  perceived  and  accepted  so  thoughtlessly  as  a 
brain  view  is  a  retina  reflection.  Purkinje,  as  your  in- 
genious visitor  probably  very  well  knew,  demonstrated 
that  fact  fifty  years  ago,  conclusively  so  far  as  science  is 
concerned,  and  since  that  time  the  phenomenon  has  been 
known  as  Purkinje's  tracings  or  shadows. 

"Your  visitor  should  be  credited  with  broad  knowledge, 
keen  penetration  and  great  sagacity.  His  methods  cer- 
tainly excite  my  admiration,  and  it  is  by  no  means  assured 
that  despite  his  erratic  methods  he  does  not  propose  to 
serve  his  fellow-men.  He  is  evidently  studying  mind  ex- 
pressions and  conveying  thought  prints.  He  has  most 
admirably  proven  that  to  you  facts  may  become  fallacies, 
and  fallacies  may  become  facts,  but  he  has  not  clearly 
differentiated  between  fact  and  fancy.  Indeed,  it  seems 
as  though  he  knows  more  than  he  tells,  but  feels  that  'tis 
best  to  stir  the  thought  stuff  in  your  own  self,  and  then  let 
you  find  out  for  yourself  that  which  he  could  tell  you  were 
he  so  inclined.  You  need  not  be  at  all  disturbed.  You 
are  probably  very  susceptible  to  subtile  reasonings;  in- 
deed, it  is  questionable  if  your  visitor  need  now  enter  the 
room  in  order  to  dominate  your  mind  and  make  you  see 
unreal  things,  as  well  as  overlook  things  that  exist." 

Again  I  became  irritated,  for  while  my  confidant  had 
not  asserted  that  my  mind  was  disordered,  as  had  Pro- 
fessor Chickering,  he  had  humiliated  me  by  arguing  that 
I  was  mentally  subject  to  the  will  of  another.  I  sat  in 
revery  a  moment,  and  then  said:  "Are  you  willing  to 
meet  this  personage?" 

"Yes." 

"Will  you  conceal  yourself  in  my  room  to-morrow 
evening?" 

"Certainly." 

"Then  I  will  place  myself  under  your  direction,  and  at 
the  proper  moment  will  confront  you  with  him." 

"If  such  is  to  be,  you  must  exercise  greater  self-con- 
trol than  you  have  done  heretofore." 


362  Etidorhpa 

In  detail  then  my  friend  laid  down  our  line  of  action. 
When  he  departed  I  felt  great  pleasure  in  the  comfort  de- 
rived from  the  fact  that  I  had  now  a  confidant,  and  also 
in  the  certainty  that  together  we  could  dispossess  my 
strange  mind-master,  for  I  now  felt  convinced  that  I  had 
been  toyed  with  by  a  man  educated  in  directions  outside 
the  lines  of  study  that  are  as  yet  open  to  ordinary 
students.  My  thoughtless,  empirical  experimentation  had 
probably  been  discovered  by  some  means  best  known  to 
I-Am-The-Man,  and  had  led  the  master  to  seek  my  per- 
son. He  was  now  wielding  me  as  a  moulder  moulds  a 
figure  of  putty — for  what  ? 


CHAPTER   LVIII. 

^TIS  NOT  THE  EYE,  BUT  THE  BRAIN,  THAT  SEES  AN  OBJECT. 

Promptly  at  eight  o'clock  the  following  evening  my 
aged  visitor  knocked  at  the  door,  and  upon  entering  the 
room  conducted  himself  in  the  most  conventional  manner. 
I  had  purposely  placed  his  chair  in  the  line  of  vision  from 
the  large  wardrobe,  within  which  my  scientific  friend  had 
been  comfortably  secreted,  and  from  which  my  guest 
could  be  seen  through  a  crack  in  the  door  without  the 
hidden  man  being  perceived.  Every  precaution  had  been 
taken  to  prevent  the  seer  from  suspecting  the  presence  of 
my  friend,  the  objects  removed  from  the  wardrobe  were 
out  of  sight,  as  were  also  the  cane  and  hat  of  my  friend. 

My  visitor  seated  himself,  and  said :  "Let  us  now 
continue  the  reading  of  the  manuscript." 

"No,"  I  replied,  "we  will  not." 

He  looked  at  me  in  apparent  wonder,  and  asked  :  "What 
is  your  will?" 

"I  will  that  vou  listen  to  me,"  I  said  in  a  firm  tone. 

"Well  ?" 

"You  are  playing  with  me,  are  using  me  for  a  hidden 
purpose ;  are  neither  reading  a  narrative  nor  relating 
facts." 

"Go  on." 

"I  will  no  longer  submit  to  this  imposition." 

"Name  your  grievance,  and  if  possible  I  will  serve 
you,"  he  said,  pleasantly. 

"You  have  by  some  psychological  power  bound  my  at- 
tention and  compelled  my  mind  to  obedience.  You  have 
forced  me  to  see  things  that  are  not,  and  to  overlook 
things  that  are." 

"Name  them." 

I  took  from  my  pocket  the  carefully  prepared  paper  of 


364  Etidorhpa 

my  scientific  friend  which  I  had  copied  in  mv  own  hand, 
and  read  as  follows  : 

"No  cavern  such  as  you  name  has  been  discovered  in 
Kentucky.  You  bring  no  evidence  to  show  that  the 
steamer  George  Washington  ran  the  Ohio  River  as  early 
as  1826.  You  assert  that  energy  from  the  sun  penetrates 
opaque  bodies,  even  earthy  matters.  You  claim  that  un- 
seen rays  of  energy  can  be  vivified  and  made  visible. 
You  pretend  that  water  can  rise  above  its  level,  and  thus 
by  molecular  force  between  solutions  of  varying  gravity 
produce  artesian  wells  by  processes  different  from  those 
accepted  by  geologists.  You  claim  that  the  centre  of 
gravitation  is  not  the  centre  of  the  earth.  You  assert  that 
the  earth  is  hollow  and  that  it  is  not  matter  that  has 
weight,  but  that  weight  is  an  energy  expression  associated 
therewith,  but  which  may  exist  free  from  matter.  You  as- 
sert that  material  has  no  strength,  for  that  quality  also 
you  claim  to  be  simply  an  expression  of  atomic  and  molec- 
ular energies.  You  assert  that  the  prism  does  not  de- 
compose the  sun's  energy  into  its  ultimates,  but  that 
the  spectrum  produced  by  a  prism  is  a  something 
scraped  oflF  from  the  light  rays,  the  main  ray  passing  di- 
rectly through  the  prism.  You  claim  also  that  rays  exist 
that  the  prism  cannot  deflect  and  that  as  yet  no  device  of 
man  can  enable  him  to  appreciate.  You  claim  further  that 
the  rays  of  the  spectrum  known  to  man  are  not  ultimates, 
and  that  when  they  are  finally  dissociated,  or  again  de- 
flected, colors  and  conditions  new  to  man  will  become  evi- 
dent. You  assert  that  as  yet  man,  because  of  his  narrow 
mind,  knows  but  little  of  the  energy  that  pervades  his 
sphere,  and  you  assert  that  unknown  forces  permeate  his 
very  being.  Yes,"  I  cried,  becoming  almost  frantic  as  I 
read,  "yes,  and  at  last  you  submit  to  me  an  experiment 
fifty  years  old,  and  craftily  make  me  believe  that  I  am 
looking  at  my  brain  when  I  really  see  the  venation  of  the 
retina." 

"Is  that  all  ?"  he  mildly  asked. 

"It  is  enough." 


*Tis  Not  the  Eye,  But  the  Brain       365 

"No,"  he  replied,  "it  is  not  enough.  You  might  have 
added  that  you  have  heretofore  been  a  slave  to  your 
master,  one-sided  science,  based  mainly  on  experimenta- 
tion in  certain  limited  directions,  and  have  never  been  able 
to  think  outside  of  the  narrow  lines  she  prescribes.  You 
might  have  said  that  never  Eastern  slave  master,  standing 
with  whip  in  hand,  more  effectually  crushed  to  earth  a 
crouching  supplicant  than  has  this  master  crushed  you 
and  such  as  you.  You  might  have  added  that  the  time  of 
liberation  is  at  hand  and  that,  too,  through  the  agency  of 
that  same  science,  for  the  wildest  speculations  of  seem- 
ingly erratic  dreamers  is  to  be  soon  verified.  You  might 
have  added  much  that  I  did  not  tell  you  and  which  is  less 
probable  than  anything  you  have  named  as  being  improb- 
able." 

"Name  one  thing." 

"You  might  have  said  that  space  outside  the  lines 
drawn  from  orb  to  orb  is  empty,  an  absolute  void  so  far 
as  man  is  now  concerned." 

"What,  you  astound  me  with  your  impudence." 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "because  it  is  true." 

"Look,"  I  said,  and,  leading  him  to  the  window,  I 
pointed  to  the  starrv  heavens.    "Look." 

"Well?" 

"Can  light  and  heat  pass  through  a  vacuum,  a  perfect 
vacuum  ?" 

"I  did  not  assert  that  a  vacuum  stands  between  each 
world,  each  sun,  each  satellite  and  sun." 

"You  assuredly  did." 

"Listen,"  he  said.  "You  misconstrue  my  words.  I  said 
as  far  as  man  is  concerned  outside  the  lines  drawn  from 
orb  to  orb,"  and,  returning  to  his  chair,  he  seated  himself. 
"Listen  to  reason.  Call  your  aged  friend  from  the  ward- 
robe. It  is  unkind  to  keep  him  longer  in  so  uncomfort- 
able a  location.  Besides,  he  wishes  to  join  in  the  con- 
versation." 

I  stood  dumbfounded. 

"You  seem  to  forget  what  is  proper,"  he  remarked 


366  Etidorhpa 

again,  exactly  as  he  had  remarked  at  an  early  interview, 
and,  opening  the  wardrobe  door,  he  coolly  invited  my 
friend  into  the  room.  Taking  him  by  the  hand  and  look- 
ing him  intently  in  the  eye,  The-Man-Who-Did-It  said: 

"You  have  questioned  my  personage  and  my  mission, 
for  which  you  certainly  cannot  be  criticised.  Be  seated. 
And  now  for  the  figures  of  Purkinje,"  he  added,  joining 
in  our  former  private  conversation  as  though  by  request, 
"you  are  right  and  you  are  wrong.  You  are  right  in  that 
Purkinje  issued  a  pamphlet  and  wrote  on  the  subject  of 
retina  venation  shadows ;  you  are  wrong  in  accepting  that 
the  retina  sees  an  object,  for  it  does  not.  The  real  picture 
is  not  the  shadow  and  is  not  the  retina  scene,  but  the  im- 
pression made  on  the  brain,  to  which  a  form  of  energy 
that  you  cannot  now  define  and  do  not  know  carries  the 
figure  of  that  which  is  seemingly  seen.  So  far  as  men's 
senses  are  concerned,  an  object  seen  is  not  always  real,  the 
only  reality  to  man  is  the  impression  in  the  brain." 

I  looked  at  my  new  companion,  awaiting  his  reply. 

"You  are  mistaken,"  he  asserted ;  "an  object  seen  is 
real." 

"No,"  the  guest  replied ;  "not  necessarily  ;  the  object  you 
perceive  may  not  have  an  existence.  It  may  not  be 
situated  where  you  think  you  see  it.  The  impression  on 
the  retina  may  be  so  positive  as  to  be  beyond  controversy, 
and  yet  tell  a  falsehood  that  the  brain  must  correct." 

"I  am  looking  at  that  lamp  shade,"  my  companion  re- 
plied. "I  perceive  distinctly  the  small  figures  on  it ;  it  is 
there  and  real." 

The  guest  whirled  him  around  so  that  he  faced  the 
mirror.  "See,"  he  said,  "is  not  the  lamp  shade  in  the 
mirror?" 

"No,  that  is  a  reflection." 

"Of  what?" 

"Of  the  lamp  shade." 

"From  what?" 

"From  the  mirror." 

"Does  the  lamp  shade  seem  to  be  on  the  mirror  ?" 


*Tis  Not  the  Eye,  But  the  Brain       367 

"No,  far  behind  it." 

"You  know  it  is  not  behind  the  mirror?" 

"Of  course." 

"You  know  also  that  it  is  not  on  the  face  of  the 
mirror?" 

"Yes." 

"How  do  you  know  this  ?" 

"By  my  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  reflection." 

"How  do  you  know  it  is  a  reflection?" 

"The  real  lamp  is  behind  me." 

"You  are  only  giving  an  opinion,  basing  your  opinion 
on  what  you  assert  you  see  in  a  place  you  know  there  is  no 
lamp.  You  do  not  see  the  reflection  and  yet  claim  to  do 
so.  You  actually  see  the  lamp  on  the  table  behind  you, 
and  yet  claim  not  to  see  it.  You  reason  yourself  into  a 
self-evident  fallacy.  If  you  had  not  previously  seen  the 
lamp  behind  you,  and  that  mirror  had  been  set  in  a  win- 
dow frame  so  that  you  would  not  have  suspected  it  to  be 
a  mirror,  you  would  probably  have  accepted  without  ques- 
tion that  you  were  looking  into  another  room  and  were 
observing  another  lamp." 

"Yes." 

"You  therefore  see  the  lamp  where  it  is  not." 

"Yes." 

"You  believe,  however,  since  your  reason  states  that  the 
lamp  is  on  the  table,  that  what  you  see  is  the  reflection." 

"Surely." 

"The  reflection  comes  from  the  metallic  surface  on  the 
back  of  the  glass  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Now,  let  me  say  to  you  that  you  do  not  see  the  re- 
flection— you  see  the  lamp  as  much  now  as  when  you  turn 
your  eyes  directly  upon  it.  If  you  see  the  real  lamp  at 
all,  you  see  it  when  you  look  toward  that  mirror." 

"This  I  deny." 

"Ah,"  he  said,  seemingly  breaking  the  thought  line, 
"I  perceive  that  you  wear  spectacles.     Please  step  to  the 


368  Etidorhpa 

lamp  shade  on  the  table,  and  examine  the  figures  closely ; 
read  that  inscription  on  the  transparency." 

My  companion  did  so,  holding  his  face  about  eighteen 
inches  from  the  inscription ;  then  he  looked  inquiringly  at 
the  guest. 

"Be  seated  again,  and  let  me  ask  you,  where  do  you  see 
the  reflection  of  the  lamp  shade?  Is  it  on  the  face  of  the 
mirror  or  beyond  it  ?" 

'Tar  beyond  it." 

"You  do  not  claim  that  the  rays  really  penetrate  the 
quicksilver  ?" 

"No;  the  reflecting  surface  is  the  mercury  on  the  glass. 
The  image  of  this  lamp  shade  is  reflected  from  that  metal- 
lic surface,  according  to  well-known  laws." 

The  old  man  led  my  companion  to  the  glass,  and  said, 
"If  the  image  of  the  shade  is  reflected  from  the  glass,  the 
motto  you  have  read  is  thrown  from  the  glass,  and  you 
should  be  able  to  read  the  motto  on  the  glass  that  reflects 
the  engraving  when  you  focus  your  eyes  upon  it  through 
your  spectacles.  Please  read  the  motto  on  the  glass  sur- 
face." My  friend  stepped  to  the  mirror,  and  attempted 
to  do  as  directed,  and  failed  to  accomplish  the  result. 

"The  image  is  not  on  the  glass,  nor  yet  on  the  quick- 
silver, I  perceive,  and  so  you  do  not  see  the  reflection 
from  the  glass,  as  you  asserted,"  said  the  guest.  "Per- 
haps the  motto  is  really  behind  the  glass." 

"Preposterous." 

"Let  us  see.  If  it  is  behind  the  glass  a  telescope  should 
focus  it." 

Taking  my  opera  glasses  from  the  table  the  intruding 
guest  handed  them  to  his  companion,  and  said,  "Focus 
them  on  the  object  you  think  you  perceive  behind  the 
glass,  and  yet  presume  to  argue  is  not  there,  and  tell  me 
if  vou  cannot  now  read  the  motto." 

"Yes,  plainly." 

"How  consistent.  You  know  the  lamp  shade  is  not 
there ;  you  know  that  the  reflection  is  not  from  that  point 
but  from  the  glass,  and  yet  you  assert  that  you  perceive 


'Tis  Not  the  Eye,  But  the  Brain        369 

the  motto  where  neither  the  substance  nor  the  shadow  can 
be,  and  cannot  read  the  motto  on  the  glass  surface,  from 
which,  on  the  other  hand,  you  claim  you  see  the  lamp  re- 
flected." 

"I  can  explain  this  apparent  inconsistency." 

"Go  on." 

"The  angle  of  incidence  is  equal  to  the  angle  of  re- 
flection." 

"Of  course ;  go  on." 

"The  ray  of  light  passes  to  the  mirror,  and  is  deflected 
to  my  eye." 

"Go  on." 

"I  therefore  see  the  reflection  of  the  object  apparently 
behind  the  mirror." 

"My  friend,"  said  the  old  guest,  "you  have  given  the 
usual  roundabout  explanation  for  a  very  simple  phe- 
nomenon, but  it  is  not  altogether  satisfactory.  You  go 
around  the  tree  and  come  back  in  order  to  examine  the 
bark  that  faces  you  and  then  you  talk  in  circles  when  you 
try  to  describe  it.  Now  listen,  my  friend.  You  do  not 
see  the  reflection,  you  simply  look  at  the  lamp  shade  which 
is  behind  you  through  a  bent  ray  of  light.  While  it  is 
true  that  the  angle  of  incidence  is  equal  to  the  angle  of 
reflection,  that  fact  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  sight  phe- 
nomenon. Why  do  you  not  say  that  the  mirror  bends  the 
bundle  of  light  rays,  and  that  your  eye  receives  the  im- 
pressions imparted  by  the  bent  message  before  your  brain 
does  ?  The  intellect  has  no  power  to  see  the  bend  or  angle 
of  that  ray ;  it  knows  nothing  of  its  path  or  journey  and 
the  impression  received  tells  nothing  about  the  mirror  that 
rests  between  that  object  and  yourself.  The  lamp  shade 
is  actually  as  far  from  your  eye  as  are  the  combined  dis- 
tances of  the  shade  and  your  eye  from  the  glass  when 
you  look  toward  the  shade  in  the  mirror  depths.  It  seems 
exactly  that  distance  behind  the  glass  because  of  the  laws 
of  perspective,  and  because  you  cannot  appreciate  the 
bend  in  your  light  ray.  The  one  thing  that  exists,  if  any- 
thing exists  in  this  phenomenon,  is  this  bend  in  the  ray 


370  Etidorhpa 

of  light,  and  that  you  cannot  see.  That  which  is  you  do 
not  see  (the  bend  in  the  ray),  and  that  which  is  not  (the 
reflection  behind  the  glass)  you  assert  that  you  do  see.  If 
you  saw  the  image  on  the  glass  your  spectacles  would 
bring  it  into  focus  on  the  glass,  but  fail  to  do  so.  When 
you  focused  the  opera  glasses  exactly  as  far  as  the  shade 
is  from  your  eye,  counting  the  bend  in  the  ray,  you  then 
asserted  that  you  saw  the  inscription  thereon.  If  a  photog- 
rapher had  designed  to  take  a  picture  of  the  motto  from 
the  so-called  reflection  he  would  also  have  had  to  focus 
the  camera  on  the  real  lamp  shade,  not  on  the  mirror. 
This  he  could  do  by  virtue  of  the  bent  ray  of  light.  Is  it 
not  irrational  to  assert  that  an  object  exists  where  it  is 
not?" 

"I  see  the  lamp  shade  through  the  bent  ray  of  light, 
which,  in  other  words,  is  your  manner  of  telling  what  I 
said." 

"No,  I  did  not  say  you  saw  the  lamp  shade." 

"Old  man,  you  exasperate  me;  'tis  your  own  argu- 
ment." 

"It  is  not." 

My  friend  gazed  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"I  am  tired,"  I  interrupted ;  "tired  of  this  folly.  You 
twist  facts  to  suit  yourself,  and  prove  one  day  by  argu- 
ments that  another  day  you  use  to  disprove." 

"Yes,  and  your  masters  in  science  teach  you  to-day  that, 
what  they  taught  yesterday  were  fallacies.  You  once 
made  the  assertion  that  you  saw  your  reflection  in  the 
mirror,  to  which  I  added,  'No,  not  the  reflection,  but  the 
reflection  of  the  reflection.'  Could  I  have  taken  time  then 
to  give  you  this  lesson?  I  have  overlooked  many  er- 
roneous statements  that  you  have  made,  and  have  myself 
used  several  human  failings  in  order  to  be  understood. 
Many  things  that  might  have  been  studied  have  been 
passed  in  silence ;  they  could  not  be  taken  up  on  the 
moment.    Are  you  through?"  he  asked. 

"No.  You  asserted  this  evening  that  space  is  empty, 
and  vou  know  that  it  is  filled  with  sun's  rays." 


'Tis  Not  the  Eye,  But  the  Brain       371 

"I  did  not." 

I  stood  dumbfounded. 

"I  said  that  so  far  as  men's  faculties  of  observation  are 
concerned  space  is  empty." 

"Ah,"  I  sneered." 

"Yes,  a  perfect  blank." 

"No  ether  of  Aristotle  therein?" 

"No." 

"No  sunshine?" 

"No." 

"No  heat?" 

"No." 

"No  electricity?" 

"No." 

"Either  you  are  the  most  arrogant  of  mortals,  or  we  are 
fools." 

"Neither  condition  is  a  necessity.  Let's  reason  the  mat- 
ter out.  It  is  usual  for  astronomers  and  mathematicians 
to  calculate  concerning  the  enormous  amount  of  energy 
that  the  sun  pours  into  space.  On  what  premise  do  they 
base  their  calculations?"  he  turned  to  my  student  friend. 

"They  calculate  from  the  amount  the  earth  receives," 
was  the  reply. 

"Ah.  Now,  what  evidence  have  they  to  show  that  the 
sun  is  throwing  the  same  amount  of  energy  elsewhere  into 
space  ?" 


CHAPTER   LIX. 

THE  VISION   OF   THE   FUTURE  OF   SCIENCE. 

"Listen,"  said  I-Am-The-Man.  "Let  us  imagine  that 
strings  extend  from  your  eye  out  into  this  room.  Let  us 
imagine  that  gravitation,  not  Hght,  produces  the  sensation 
that  you  call  sight,  and  that  this  force  follows  the  strings. 
A  string  then  becomes  transparent  to  this  sense  of  sight. 

"Let  us  imagine  that  the  extremities  of  these  strings  end 
in  knobs  and  that  these  knobs  are  the  exciting  points,  and 
thus  severally  impress  the  eye.  Each  string  becomes  a 
medium  capable  of  conveying  the  energy  that  gives  to  the 
brain  behind  the  eye  the  figure  of  the  knob  at  the  ex- 
tremity of  the  string. 

"Every  string  is  simply  a  channel  or  path  that  leads  di- 
rectly from  the  brain,  through  the  eye,  to  the  knob  ex- 
tremity. The  knob  is  at  one  end,  the  brain  at  the  other, 
all  between  the  slender  strings  is  as  vacancy.  Let  us 
imagine  now  that  the  observer,  from  what  he  knows,  is 
asked  to  give  his  impression  of  the  amount  of  energy 
these  balls  are  throwing  out.  The  decision  will  be  that  in 
all  directions  they  throw  off  the  same  amount,  thus  per- 
vading all  space  between  the  strings  with  the  exciting 
energy  in  proportion  to  that  which  the  eye  receives.  These 
balls  only  are  seen  by  the  brain ;  nothing  else  has  ever 
been  seen,  nothing  is  known  concerning  the  vast  space 
between  the  radiating  strings. 

"Now  as  to  your  sun,  the  stars,  the  planets.  These 
bodies  are,  so  far  as  men  know,  connected  with  each  other 
by  energy  channels  apparently  conveying  heat  and  light 
as  well  as  other  force  expressions.  No  evidence  exists 
to  show  that  these  channels  do  not  convey  all  the  energy 
corollated  by  these  bodies,  all  of  it.  At  present,  we  can 
see  by  means  of  one  of  these  forces  of  energy,  one  only, 


The  Vision  of  the  Future  of  Science      373 

light,  but  in  the  time  to  come  men  will  see  by  means  of 
others.  As  before  remarked,  a  pleasant  pastime  for  some 
men  is  the  calculation  of  the  amount  of  energy  the  sun 
throws  into  space,  basing  their  figures  on  the  amount  they 
believe  the  earth  receives.  However,  since  they  have 
never  seen  anything  outside  the  channels  that  lead  di- 
rectly from  the  earth  to  the  sun,  and  the  other  heavenly 
bodies,  they  have  no  evidence  to  show  that  any  energy 
whatever  passes  outside  the  threads  that  connect  the 
heavenly  bodies.  They  guess  only,  and,  as  is  usual  with 
guesses,  ridiculously.  So  far  as  space  is  concerned  man 
has  no  data  to  indicate  that  a  sliver  of  energy  of  any  kind 
whatever  escapes  into  space.  Indeed,  he  accepts  that 
gravitation  exists  only  in  lines  connecting  matter  with 
matter,  and  because  certain  modifications  of  force  radiate 
in  all  directions  in  his  matter-surrounded  vessels  (as,  for 
example,  a  hot  iron  ball  in  a  vacuum  glass),  assumes  that 
known  forces  pass  in  all  directions  correspondingly  from 
planets  and  sun  into  space.  Man  has  never  seen  outside 
the  lines  that  connect  his  earth  with  the  other  planets  and 
suns,  which  (the  suns),  like  ganglii  or  nerve  centres,  are 
simply  reservoirs  in  this  complicated  network.  All  the 
space  between  these  channels  and  without  these  ganglii 
is  to  man  as  black  as  darkness  can  be,  a  void.  Wherever 
a  line  crosses  another  a  sun  springs  into  existence.  Thus, 
as  knots  in  a  fisherman's  net  where  cross  the  strings,  so 
do  the  points  of  intersection  of  the  channels  of  energy  be- 
come as  suns,  and  thus  as  a  monstrous  net  in  space  these 
streams  of  energy,  interlaced,  are  together  moving 
through  and  sweeping  infinity's  chamber.  Snap  a  line  of 
energ\%  and  the  sun  beyond  disappears  to  us ;  intensify  it, 
and  the  sun  flames  up ;  contract  it,  and  the  sun  fades  out. 
Thus  a  star  may  seem  to  come  and  go,  may  suddenly 
brighten  and  as  rapidly  disappear. 

"Now,  let  me  go  a  little  further  in  this  thought  line. 
Suppose  an  insect  capable  of  seeing,  reasoning,  by  means 
of  the  nerve  impressions,  rested  in  the  great  nerve  of  the 
neck  vertebra  of  a  living  man.     To  that  insect,  bone, 


374  Etidorhpa 

muscle,  veins,  blood,  tissue  of  all  kinds  would  have  no 
existence,  and  the  universe  outside  that  human  body 
would  be  as  nothing.  Feeling  the  nerve  centres  only,  and 
seeing  therewith  the  nerve  ganglii,  that  insect  would  say : 
These  are  sources  of  energy  ;  all  outside  the  nerves  leading 
to  these  centres  is  a  blank.  To  that  insect,  only  the 
threads  of  nerves  and  the  great  brain  at  one  extremity 
would  be  a  reality ;  all  else  would  be  empty  space.  If  a 
nerve  should  die,  both  the  nerve  and  all  beyond  and  with- 
out would  become  a  blank.  If  the  person  had  a  dead 
tooth,  regardless  of  its  solidity  otherwise,  it  would  not  be 
a  tooth  to  that  insect,  but  vacant  space. 

"Do  you  know,"  suddenly  asked  the  old  man,  "do  you 
know  how  many  dead  teeth  (worn-out  suns  and  planets) 
are  hanging  to  your  earth  and  sun,  giving  out  no  heat,  no 
light,  no  electricity ;  in  other  words,  destitute  of  gravity 
and  other  forms  of  energy,  invisible  ?  Do  you  know  how 
many  dead  worlds  hang  in  space,  destitute  of  gravity, 
light,  heat,  energy  of  all  kinds,  invisible  consequently  to 
you,  transparent  to  your  energy?  Do  you  know  how 
many  live  worlds  hang  to  your  sun,  but  above  or  below 
the  plane  on  which  your  family  of  planets  moves?  Do 
you  know  how  many  space  mediums,  clear  as  crystal  in 
substance,  but  opaque  as  graphite  where  the  surfaces 
touch,  blot  out  the  worlds  above  and  below  the  plane  oc- 
cupied by  our  family  of  planets?"    He  hesitated. 

"Go  on,"  said  my  companion,  "go  on." 

"Now,"  said  my  mysterious  visitor,  "do  you  know 
where  vour  sun  is  situated?" 

"Of  course." 

"No,  you  do  not.  The  thread  of  energy  that  connects 
your  earth  with  the  sun  may  be  twisted,  curved,  bent,  re- 
flected from  unseen  surfaces  of  the  space  films  here  and 
there,  and  to  you  it  must  be  straight.  This  thread  is  to 
man  on  earth  the  size  of  the  earth ;  before  it  reaches  the 
sun  it  may  shrink  to  a  thread's  diameter.  If  it  should 
snap,  your  sun  would  disappear  in  an  instant.  You  look 
back  toward  the  sun  from  this  end  of  the  channel ;  you 


The  Vision  of  the  Future  of  Science      275 

know  nothing  of  the  curves  and  angles  between.  You 
saw  the  lamp  shade,  not  where  it  is,  for  you  know  it  to 
have  been  behind  you.  You  see  the  sun  and  other  heavenly 
bodies  even  less  clearly,  for  you  reason  concerning  them 
only  from  knowledge  derived  from  this  end  of  the  line. 
The  other  end  has  never  been  touched.  You  see  them 
through  channels  that,  so  far  as  you  are  concerned,  may 
be  straight  or  crooked,  may  be  spirals  or  angular,  may 
distort  their  sizes,  shapes  and  distances.  Would  you  not 
be  surprised  to  know  that  from  above  your  atmosphere 
the  sun  is  invisible?    Light  is  earth-bred." 

Together  we  sat  speechless.  Then  the  Seer  asked, 
"Would  you  behold  the  future  of  science?" 

"Yes,"  we  both  answered  simultaneously.  I-Am-The- 
Man  removed  the  lamp  shade.  "Be  seated  side  by  side, 
and  look  at  the  lamp  as  you  see  it  in  your  glass."  We 
turned  our  eyes  upon  the  mirror.  He  stepped  behind  us, 
and  placed  a  hand  on  the  forehead  of  each.  "Behold,"  he 
said,  "behold." 

As  he  repeated  these  words  the  lamp  disappeared,  the 
room  vanished,  things  seen  dissolved,  and  things  unseen 
took  their  places ;  things  that  I  dare  not  say  and  dare  not 
think  about  burst  into  view.  To  speak  of  that  which  en- 
veloped my  spirit  during  that  vision  would  be  to  invite 
crucifixion  at  the  hands  of  my  scientific  friends.  Per- 
haps I  have  already  done  so. 

When  the  vision  disappeared  the  old  man  was  gone, 
and  I  found  my  student  friend  dazed  by  my  side.  Seem- 
ingly we  came  together  back  to  earth-scenes  from  that 
marvellous  vision  of  the  future  of  science  concerning 
which  neither  of  us  dared  to  either  speak  then  or  there- 
after.   He  arose,  grasped  my  hand,  turned  to  the  door. 

"Will  you  come  again?"  I  asked. 

"No,"  friend  Llewellyn,  he  said,  and  silently  departed. 

I  sat  alone  in  my  room,  wrapped  in  thought  shadows 
that  come  to  such  as  L 

THE   END. 


